


The Wish

by Scribe32oz



Series: Seven Scrolls [17]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Ensemble Cast, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Interracial Relationship, Magic, Male Friendship, Novella, Period-Typical Racism, Series, Strong Female Characters, Supernatural Elements, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-24
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-02-06 08:28:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 104,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12813600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: When Billy Travis makes a Christmas wish to give everyone their hearts desire, the seven soon learn that it is well to beware of what you wish for…you might just get it.   A 'What If' Story.





	1. Books of Shadow

 

Books are odd things.  
  
Often lauded as the greatest expression of human achievement, their importance is also derided by the ignorant who believe no stain upon civilization can be forgotten so long as it is recorded in the pages of a book. A book is a different thing to different people. For some, it expands the mind to boundaries beyond comprehension,  or seal it off irrevocably through content and dogma. Throughout the ages, the power of the written word has become almost mythical and for its value to history, it can be no other way. When ink sinks into parchment, preserved for the ages, civlisation is gifted with immortality.

There are also books held sacred and hidden in dark places where those who do not know the proper forms, are forbidden to consult the secrets kept in the yellowed pages. Through time and mystery, these are kept secreted away from men by its authors, for reasons inexplicable to all but themselves. Such books contain secrets best forgotten by all and yet from time to time, they surface long enough to fall into the hands of those who have no idea what it is they have stumbled upon.  
  
Like Books of Shadow.  
  
Sometimes known as Grimoires, the secrets contained within speak of things incredible and yet terrifying. They are not merely recordings of past times but are instead gateways to the worlds hidden within the mists, known only to the select few who are able to cross its threshold. They exist as windows to forbidden knowledge, best forgotten by those who are unable to appreciate reality is soft and translucent, not at all the hard, immovable things everyone believes it to be. Reality can bend as easily as light might do so on a sheet of glass. It takes skill to understand what is contained within a Grimoire. Certainly, its authors understood that and riddled their writings with cryptic and fanciful words, designed to addle the minds of the uninformed and yet accessible to those who knew the craft.  
  
The Grimoire that travelled from the old continent to the New World certainly had as auspicious a pedigree as any written throughout the ages. Its author was a genuine practitioner of the craft, a man who was a mage in every sense of the word. Written in the time before Christianity paralyzed the world and made anything it did not understand a sin, the Grimoire held the knowledge of the craft from its more basic spells to grandiose enchantments that could see the heavens shake upon conjuring. It fell into the hands of many owners, some good, some bad, some who sought to learn and some who sought to abuse. The Grimoire itself held no malevolence or enlightenment, it simply was what it was.  
  
For most of its existence in the new world, it was considered little more than a family heirloom, an oddity to be kept in a box in someone's attic, never considered further beyond the fact that it was there. It sat within its confines, a benign power awaiting release by those who had no idea of what its pages contained, what those words written in old script was meant to signify. It was not to say it never reached the hands of those who knew exactly what it was and exploited the forbidden writings trapped within its pages. During those occasions, there were usually terrible consequences for those who sought to dabble in the arcane especially when non-believers, usually puritanical Christians, learned of these attempts. Death and destruction usually followed, leaving a stain of violence that left neither side unscathed. Eventually, the Grimoire fell into the hands of a pastor who knew what it was but could never bring himself to destroy it.  
  
The book knew how to protect itself.  
  
Being a man of the cloth who felt it a mortal sin to even possess such a thing, he could never understand why the resolve to rid himself of it never came and so it remained locked in a trunk, forgotten. It remained in the pastor's keeping who never told anyone of its existence and the trunk continued to gather dust over the years, keeping its greatest secret locked inside its wooden confines. It remained anonymous as long as the house was occupied by the pastor's kin, unseen and lost as the generations continued to thrive with the years until finally one day, a widow wishing to make a new start in a new place, chose to sell up and move away.  
  
The woman, who was in herself as unique a specimen as the Grimoire she unknowingly had in her possession, surveyed the attic where the trunk was hidden for so long and at last noticed this relic from her family's history. With a girl child beside her, she managed to open the rusted lock keeping the box sealed and released air that had been locked away for more than a century.  
  
The woman, scholar that she was, saw it as a book of spells from a time when people were foolish enough to believe in such superstition. She examined it with mild interest, her fascination lasting no longer than the realization it had been in her family's possession for a long time and she would not be the one to discard it. It was an oddity to her at best and she tucked it away with the rest of the possessions to make the exodus with her into a new life.  
  
However, the girl child found the book to be more than just a bit of curiosity. As her small fingers scanned the pages before her, she found her mind expanding to the idea of nothing being set in stone as she believed. Her mother had always said the world was an arena of unlimited possibilities and until she read the first lines in the Grimoire, had no idea how true that could be.  
  
She scoured its pages with youthful eagerness, unaware what she was learning had power to change her irrevocably, caring only that a new world had opened up for her and it was a world through which only she had passage. Her mother saw no reason to discourage her, but she did make an attempt to explain what was in those old pages of faded ink was not real and merely a collection of old wives tales. Never one to impede her child's desire to learn anything, she allowed the girl freedom to explore this interest. However she was mindful of how the more Christian members of the community might react to this, and offered the child a hint of warning regarding to whom she should exposed this new hobby. Besides, she had greater things to concern herself with at the present time than her daughter's extra curricular interests.  
  
With a husband not long in the ground and the town they resided offering nothing but sad memories of a life now gone forever, she made the decision to leave. Finding a position in her line of work was never difficult but finding a place was. She was not a conventional woman in any sense of the word. She loved life and she loved living it to its fullest.  Her husband understood that and until the fever took him away forever, she never had any reason to evaluate how she lived. He accommodated her eccentricities just as she now tolerated her young daughter's fascination with the strange book she had found. However, while he always played the stabilizing influence in their family, she found it disconcerting the role now fell to her and the decision to leave was based much on that reason.  
  
It was no easy thing leaving behind all she knew but then nothing ever was. As the winter arrived, it was a symbolic ending not only to the year that had been but also to the life lived in a town quickly sliding into the cobwebs of yesteryear. As everything treasured was loaded into their wagon to make the journey with them, she and her daughter left their entire world behind and embarked on a journey into the unknown.  
  
Almost as unknown as what was contained in the Grimoire that went with them.


	2. Seasons Greetings

It was usually the mornings that gave Chris Larabee the most difficulty remembering he was married again.  
  
He would wake up in Mary's bed, cursing himself for staying the entire night when he should have been gone hours ago. Sometimes, if the delusion persisted, Chris would even remain there in the cool sheets, with her warmth next to his, wondering how he could sneak out in daylight without everyone knowing he was sharing her bed. Only after a minute or so, when he looked around and noticed some of his things had taken positions of permanence within the room, would it all come back to him. With almost jarring realization, Chris would remember he had married Mary and there was no need for him to sneak out of her home like a thief in the night.  
  
For the first mornings after he and Mary settled permanently into their new life together, Chris had experienced such disorientation. However, as it was with all things when it came to him, Chris was highly adaptable and soon, he was waking up in the mornings wondering how he could ever imagine Mary never being there at all. Sometimes, they did not always wake up straightaway and their lovemaking seemed all the more sweeter when Chris did not have to get up and leave for fear of scandal or gossip. These days, the only thing they had to worry about was Billy walking in on them but as Mary had explained, there was a good reason why she opted to put her son in the bedroom at the far end of the hall.  
  
If someone told Chris two years ago he would one day be sitting at a breakfast table, enjoying bacon and eggs with a wife who was cleaning up and a son who was somewhat absorbed by a carving he was making, Chris would have told them they were insane. Yet here he was doing just that, watching Billy with interest as the young boy carved something out of wood in the fashion Chris had taught him when they first met. He shifted his gaze to Mary who clearing their empty plates from the table, wondering how he was lucky enough to stumble into this piece of paradise twice in his life. When he lost Sarah and Adam, Chris never believed he would live like this again but the days since he and Mary entered wedded bliss had been just that, bliss.  
  
"More coffee?" Mary asked Chris, snapping out of his reverie.  
  
Chris glanced at his empty cup and was about to answer when Billy pushed out of his chair and announced. "I'm going now ma."

The young boy seemed in a hurry to make tracks somewhere although neither Chris nor Mary was overly curious as to where he was going.  
  
"Where are you going Billy?" Mary asked, still cautious enough about her son's whereabouts to be slightly overprotective, in light of the incidents of danger that seemed to follow them both.  
  
"Me and Lily are going to see Julia." The boy said enthusiastically and Mary did not honestly know whom he was more eager to see, the emporium owner who had become one of her closest friends or Lily King, the young daughter of the new school mistress. Ever since the arrival of mother and daughter in town, Billy had struck up a friendship with the young girl who had sunstreaked hair and the laughing green eyes. Mary guessed their friendship had arisen due to the fact Billy knew what it was like to be the new arrival in town.  
  
"Well remember," Mary offered a note of motherly advice as it was her prerogative to do, thank you very much. "Don't take advantage of Julia's hospitality, the woman does have a business to run." She met Chris's gaze with a faint smile and hoped for Ezra's sake, the gambler had no plans with Julia today because Billy tended to monopolize her time.  
  
"I won't. Bye ma, bye Chris," he said cheerily and swept out of the kitchen before either could say a word to stop him.  
  
"You know," Mary sighed as she continued clearing the table. "I figure I'd have a few years before he started chasing after reputable and wealthy women in town."  
  
"Anything that drives Ezra crazy can't be all that bad," Chris chuckled, taking great enjoyment in seeing Ezra fighting Billy for Julia's affections in recent days.  
  
"So are we agreed on having everyone here for Christmas?" Mary asked as she paused in her tidying up for a moment. She had a dozen different things to do today and wanted an answer on this point so she could start to make the necessary arrangements.  
  
"I guess." Chris shrugged, not really having a preference on this subject actually. Any Christmas where he was not in a saloon somewhere getting completely plastered was a good thing in his opinion. "Whatever you like."  
  
"Good," Mary smiled. For some reason, this was the first Christmas she would have with Billy at home permanently and Chris as her husband, she wanted to celebrate the occasion and wanted their friends to share it with them.  
  
"You know," Chris met her gaze with a wry smile. "It's going to be hard for me to keep my reptuation as the bad element with all this clean living. You're making me soft, woman."  
  
"Well," Mary laughed turning back to her cleaning. "You're a tough guy, you can handle it."

* * *

  
"Have you got it all?" The young girl asked.  
  
Billy nodded, bringing forward the collection of items he had been instructed to locate and then 'borrow' for the ritual to be performed in the quiet of the attic he now found himself in.

"I brought the horse Chris made for me," Billy announced as he produced the cache from almost two days of hard work. Unwrapping the large scarf he used to carry it all, he lay the bundle onto the floor for her inspection.  
  
"Are you sure this is all theirs?" Lily King asked again, her young face frowning with concentration as she questioned her new friend on this particular point.  
  
"I'm sure," Billy nodded, wanting desperately to begin. Ever since he met Lily a few weeks ago, the young girl had astonished him with amazing stories about places and people he had no idea existed. He found her fascinating as she spoke of scary things like spells and magic although she did not claim to be a witch. When he confessed to not knowing what he would buy for Julia Pemberton because he wanted his gift to the lady to be special, Lily presented him with the perfect idea for a gift, even if the acquiring of it was rather unusual.  
  
When she explained it to him, Billy became convinced he did not simply have to use the gift for Julia alone, he could use it on everyone. With one magic spell as Lily put it, he could give everyone he cared about, the best Christmas of their lives. Of course, it had not been a simple matter of just paying for it with the money he saved up. This was a gift that had to be bought with objects, not money. Lily had told him what to collect and over the course of the next few days, he had been diligently retrieving personal items from everyone he held close to his heart.  
  
One of his ma's hairpins were in the collection, as well as the carving Chris made him. It had been difficult acquiring the personal effects of the others but somehow he managed it. He had a deck of cards from Ezra, a pen from Doctor Styles's office, a book that belonged to Josiah, a stolen instrument from Nathan's infirmary as well as a novel belonging to J.D. Buck had given him a pocketknife some time ago and he had a handkerchief from Inez, not to mention an earing Billy was ashamed to admit had come from Julia's house without her knowledge. All of it was wrapped up tidily in one of Vin's numerous scarves.  
  
Still, Billy was troubled whether or not dabbling in such magic was a good idea. After all, his Sunday school teacher often said witches were bad and evil. Billy did not want to be evil. He just wanted to give all his friends something nice and if it could be achieved using a little magic, what was the harm in that? However, just to make sure, he consulted Josiah about the ethical uses of magic. The preacher did not seem to believe there was anything wrong in spells and superstition, provided Billy knew them for what they were.  
  
Billy had the impression Josiah did not really believe in magic but the preacher told him it was a sin only if he believed he was doing something wrong. Billy did not think he was behaving improperly by making a wish for those in his life that could only bring them happiness. Thus, if he believed he was not wrong about what he was doing, it could hardly be a sin, could it?  
  
"Okay," Lily replied eager to begin as she opened the trunk and brought out the book that would make Billy Travis's Christmas wish come true. "We can start." 

* * *

  
Vin Tanner was not having a good day.  
  
When Chris Larabee asked him to deliver a prisoner to Sweetwater, it was a straight forward enough request. It did not appear to be any more than a one man job and the prisoner, whose crimes involved bank fraud, appeared to be relatively docile. The trip to Sweetwater was uneventful with the prisoner who went by the name of Wayne Ellis, spent most of the journey trying to explain to Vin why he committed the crimes he had. Vin listened patiently, not really absorbing much but hearing enough to know the man had better luck with the ladies then Vin himself did, possessing not only a wife but also a mistress for which he had been forced to steal to support.  
  
They set out at dawn, venturing reluctantly into the early morning frost since winter had well and truly arrived. Although it was not snowing, the air had chilled considerably with a grey pall settling over much of the landscape. The sun disappeared behind a canvas of clouds that seemed ready to storm at a moment's notice and the terrain appeared as gloomy for a time of year that should be one of celebration. Everyone was expecting to see snow at some point because the winter had so far promised enough chills to indicate the weather was not going to warm up any time soon.  
  
Vin preferred spring himself. He liked the warmth that came with the thaw and the land no matter how stark it would be for the rest of the year, would attain a momentary beauty as things came to life beneath the sun. In summer, it was just too hot with things starting to brown and while the golden colour across the landscape was enticing in its own way, it did not have the resplendent beauty of spring greenery. He supposed seasons were a necessary part of life and the past year had been one of many changes. It was astonishing how much in life could be altered in such a short space of time but it had happened without any consultation from him.  
  
It was not long ago he was just another lone drifter with a price on his head. Now he was a lawman with friends who would die for him and he in turn for them, as well as a woman who loved him enough to wear his ring on her finger.  
  
Sometimes, Vin had trouble believing any of this was real and he was going to wake up one day and find himself alone in the hills, having driven himself mad from his self-imposed exile.  
  
It was early afternoon when they finally arrived at Sweetwater and Vin had enough time to get some food, allow Peso a rest and peruse the shopping list given to him by Alex. As much as he loved Alex, this was one chore he absolutely hated doing for her or anyone for that matter. Unfortunately, the time of year meant he would required to do some shopping and while he could have saved himself the bother by doing at the Emporium, Vin preferred some privacy to suffer this particular ordeal. Besides, he was not a very good shopper and anticipated he would need the help.  
  
It was not that he did not have the money for gift buying, far from it actually. Since becoming engaged, Vin realized how important it was to have something tucked away in a bank since the traditional part of him felt he should at least have a penny to his name when he and Alex did decide to finally get married. Thus when things were slow in Four Corners, he would take up his bounty hunting trade, disappearing for a few days while he tracked down criminals and then let Chris turn them in for the substantial bounty. Of course he was careful never to go after big game, lest attention was brought back to his own status as a fugitive. Before he knew it, he had a little over five hundred dollars sitting inside the bank at Four Corners. Since he had been living quite well on his dollar a day before taking on this work to supplement his income, almost none of the cash was touched since its initial deposit.  
  
Vin studied the list Alex gave him after he deposited Ellis with the local sheriff and groaned at the discovery that most of the items on it were personal things, like linen and a length of fabric she ordered a week ago. The concept of having to go into any store to pick up material for a dress was so horrifying Vin cursed himself for not taking a closer look at the list before agreeing to run this errand for her. It was bad enough he would have to muddle through buying Christmas presents, not only for Alex but for the rest of his friends, but it now looked like he would have to go browsing in a ladies shop.  
  
_Steady there Tanner_ , he told himself. He could do this. He had tracked ruthless killers across the countryside, through every terrain imaginable and some how managed to survive. This could not be any worse than that. Besides, how bad could it be? He asked himself while studying the list as he made his way down the boardwalk flainking the main street that ran through the large community.

Sweetwater was much larger than Four Corners and was quickly growing into a small city just like Eagle Bend. The railroad had come through Sweetwater some months ago and more or less established the town's permanence on any map. Unlike smaller places like Four Corners which was still in danger of fading away, as so many towns like across the Territory tended to do when the boom times disappeared, Sweetwater could survive such economic depression.  
  
Thanks to the improvement in his literary skills, Vin was able to decipher most of what Alex asked for on her list and wondered why she had asked him to hand over the piece of paper to the clerk and come back for the parcels later. She was probably trying not to embarrass him by having him attempt to read out the contents to the shop clerk. While he was grateful for the consideration, Vin could not help feeling slightly annoyed at her thinking he was not capable of reading one simple piece of paper. After all, he had been secretly practising his reading skills and Mary was still helping him to improve on what he already learned.  
  
Vin knew his way around Sweetwater after numerous visits to the town but it was the first time he ventured any further beyond the livery, the jail house or the saloon. Vin had never reason to do so until now and felt like a stranger as he wandered through the streets, looking for the particular store Alex had wanted him to visit. How was it that he could track a man across four states but could get completely lost trying to follow a woman's supposedly simple directions? After half an hour trying to discern the difference between one ladies clothing shop from another and coming to the firm conclusion they were all the same, Vin finally found the place he was searching for with growing chagrin.  
  
It did not help matters that as soon as he passed through the door, with its bell ringing noisily to let the store owner know someone had entered, every woman in the place was eyeing him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. Vin felt more at ease walking into a gun fight then he did walking into their midst, feeling for a moment as if he had crossed into forbidden territory that men as a whole were not allowed to breach. Feeling all eyes on him as he proceeded to the counter, Vin found his movements almost stealthy as he attempted to fade into the background and realized unless he had a skirt on, there was not much chance of that happening. Trying not to feel as intimidated as he looked, the tracker walked past the curious gazes of women who were wondering what this rough and tumble character was doing here in their midst.  
  
"Can I help you?" A rather dour faced woman regarded him with a raised brow.  
  
"I'm here for a lady," Vin declared, feeling some inexplicable need to establish this point most firmly before any further communication could continue.  
  
"Obviously." The woman retorted, telling Vin in that one word he could just forget about salvaging his dignity.  
  
"She gave me this." He mumbled, pushing the scrap of paper Alex was adamant he did not lose for he would be able to collect nothing for her if he had.  
  
The woman unfolded the receipt and recognized the purchaser and the order.

"This is for Doctor Styles," she remarked and then let her eyes move up and down Vin with an expression in her eyes that showed she did not at all approve of him having any association with Alex. "Wait here." She said after a moment having decided she had no reason to refuse the request since he had all the correct papers to make the collection.  
  
Vin was starting to get annoyed not just by her suspicious look but also the way the other women were trying not to stare at the tracker as they went about their business, purchasing clothes, hats and other pieces of feminine apparel. As the shop assistant went away to fill his order, Vin found himself taking a closer look at his surroundings, having never been in one of these establishments before. It certainly did not look like the general where he bought his clothes where men's clothes and the farming equipment were separated by one aisle and most of the time, no one saw any difference in the utilitarian function of either.  
  
This place might have as well been a different world. He supposed it never occurred to him how much actual work it took to look the way women did. Hats and bonnets, dresses and skirts, blouses and waist shirts, it all seemed terribly restrictive, not to mention the undergarments he spied on mannequins like corsets and chemises. Those were just the clothes!  He saw other accessories like hair pins, earrings and shoes, _lots_ of shoes and suddenly, realized it was a good thing Alex had an inheritance because if she did not have any money to her name, she would be naked.  
  
Perhaps it was not all that bad after all, he thought with a smile.  
  
He came to the small counter that acted as the shop's perfumery and decided he had not bought her a Christmas present yet. He spied some rose water sitting in a small decorative bottle and decided that would do. Vin whose sense of smell was keen was able to tell this was Alex's scent from the numerous times he breathed it on her skin. Picking up the bottle in his hands, he decided it was not a bad selection and turned around, only to stray into the path of a large matron who was built like a brick outhouse. Her weight as she impacted against him did not give the small bottle he was holding the least chance of escape as it broke. Fortunately Vin was wearing his buckskins as the bottle was crushed between them and the fragments did him little damage against the strength of its leather. However, the jacket was soaked completely in rose water.  
  
And so was he.  
  
"Really Sir," the matron bellowed. "You should watch where you're going!"  
  
"Where I'm going?" Vin retorted, exceedingly annoyed because he smelled like something Buck would end up trying to bed tonight, not to mention he had to ride back to Four Corners like this. Peso was going to be really pissed.  
  
"What's going on?" The shop clerk demanded as she appeared from the back of the premises, having been drawn out by the slight altercation that was forming between Vin and one of her customers.  
  
"This ruffian ran into me!" The matron declared first.  
  
"Ruffian?"" Vin looked at her, starting to think it would be worth another five hundred dollars on his head if he could just shoot her.  
  
"I think it would be best if you just collect your order and leave." The clerk said glaring at Vin like this was all his fault.  
  
With the situation as bad as it was, Vin decided perhaps a tactful withdrawal was in order. He was even willing to brave the emporium in Four Corners because he sure as hell was not going to be spending the rest of day walking around Sweetwater smelling like a two dollar whore. Then he found out he had to pay for the broken bottle of rose water. It was almost the last straw until suddenly the shop clerk thrust upon him, a bale of floral patterned material which could not be wrapped because of its width.  
  
Vin was practically seething as he stormed out of the store, smelling like rose water and carrying a length of floral material clearly exposed for all to see. As he took the fastest route to the livery and Peso, Vin saw the looks people were giving him as their nose twitched in reaction to his passing by. Some men had started grinning while women were tittering softly. He did not know which they found funnier. Vin who hated to be noticed by anyone was ready to shoot the next person who smiled when they came across him.  
  
"Hey sweetheart," he heard someone say behind him and Vin decided whoever it was, was about to die.  
  
"You got something to say Mister?" Vin turned around and dropped whatever was in his hands when he realized he was standing before two men who had not come across him by chance. He recognized both of them as bounty hunters from back in the day and knew they were tough as they were dangerous.  
  
"I knew I was right about the talk." The first one, called McGillis who was a hulk of a man glared at Vin with nothing but menace in his face as Vin's hand slowly move to his gun. McGillis was a loudmouth who liked to talk and posture. That gave Vin enough of a distraction to act.  
  
"I heard that you'd been hiding out behind Larabee's shadow, I just didn't know why." He took a step towards Vin and pretended to take in a deep breath before meeting the young tracker's eyes with a suggestive sneer. "Now I do."  
  
As the full implication of what the man meant sunk in, he and his companion began to laugh and Vin felt the fragments of a so far annoying day reach boiling point. Reacting when he should have been thinking, Vin threw a punch into the man's jaw before he had any idea that it was coming. As he staggered from the blow, his companion went for his gun only to have Vin jam the Winchester in his chest and fire. The resounding boom from the rifle sent the man flying backwards as Vin dropped to his knees. McGillis had now recovered to enough to launch an attack of his own; swinging at the same time Vin ducked. However, the man reacted just as swiftly, kneeing Vin in the chest and sending the tracker sprawling. Vin recovered long enough to see the man go for his gun and knew if he drew the weapon, both could very well end up killing each other.  
  
With his grip still firm on his own weapon, Vin swung his arm over his shoulder faster than he had ever done before and pulled the trigger.  
  
McGillis's six shooter flew out of his hand and landed on the ground, causing screams of fright from the women who were watching the altercation. However, he was still determined to attack. With his second bullet discharged, both men stood on equal footing. Vin knew exactly why McGillis had come after the bounty on his head. He had mistaken the sharpshooter was easy prey and Vin had every intention of showing him he was going to earn every penny of the $500 on Vin Tanner's head.  
  
His opponent was big but Vin was fast and it was easy enough for him to get on his feet before McGillis could reach him. Predictably, McGillis swung hard at him and Vin blocked the blow which in the tracker's opinion was rather sluggish. For a few seconds, both men traded hard punches and Vin reeled a number of times but forced himself to concentrate. Finding an opening, he threw a succession of blows in the man's face, forcing McGillis to stagger back with each meeting of fist against jaw. As McGillis struggled to return Vin's attack, the tracker kicked his knee from under him and sent him to the ground in a dusty heap.  
  
McGillis swore as Vin dropped down on him, laying the man flat with punches he was now too disorientated to defend. It require little more than a two or three blows before McGillis was out for the count. His large head flopped to the side as he fell unconscious, blood running from a shattered nose and various other bruises. Vin got to his feet quickly, feeling self conscious about the people staring at him with fear and suspicion. Glancing over his shoulder, Vin saw McGillis's companion lying where he had died and decided the best course of action was to leave immediately.  
  
Looking down at McGillis, Vin wiped the smear of blood running from the corner of his lip and stared at the man with hard eyes before growling in a voice full of murderous threat.  
  
"Don't call me _sweetheart_."

* * *

  
If it was any consolation to Vin Tanner, Alexandra Styles day was no less pleasant a day.  
  
Most of the time she was quite contented with the practice she built in Four Corners. She knew she was a respected physician where she would have been considered a usurper had she attempted to breach the male dominated walls of the present medical community. She accepted in this day and age, it would take time to accept a lady doctor, which was why she came to Four Corners in the first place. Here in the frontier, there was no time to be selective about where good medical expertise originated. A doctor was a doctor; colour and gender held no importance, just the skills. Alex had them and more. She knew she was a good surgeon. Nathan had told her she was one of the best he had seen, although Alex still felt he was a better diagnostic physician than she was.  
  
Despite her pleasure to be practicing, she could not help feeling slightly resentful she was pushed into these circumstances not willingly but because there was no where else she could have gone. With her skills, she should have been in a hospital somewhere, as a recognized surgeon of note. Instead society decreed because of her gender and her colour, she would always be doomed to having to endure being second best, even though she knew she was not.  
  
She arrived at the jailhouse shortly after Chris had sent for her, wondering what the man wanted and guessing it probably had to do with an injured prisoner. Although she tried hard to hide it from herself or anyone else, she was tired. It was already late afternoon and the sun was threatening to disappear behind the horizon at any moment. The day it followed had been one mundane session after another of minor cases, nothing to challenge her professionally and Alex wondered if all her days would be like this. She knew had she been a man, she would have be an eminent surgeon in a glamorous city hospital, not forced to carry out surgery in the bottom floor of her house without even the help of a nurse.  
  
Pulling her coat around her because the temperature had not shaken the iciness of the morning frost, Alex decided a warm cup of cocoa in front of a fire was in order after a day like this. Hopefully, her business in the jailhouse would not take too long and she could return home to do just that. For some reason, she felt like doing nothing but curling up in a warm place to sit out the rest of the afternoon in relative comfort. With any luck, Vin should be back in town soon and he might feel inclined to join her.  
  
"Thanks for coming Alex." Chris said as she entered the plain office of the jailhouse. Chris sat behind the desk with his feet up as always, wearing that perpetual look of calm which indicated nothing ever got under his skin. It was infuriating just looking at him. Buck was sitting across the table and both men were indulging in a game of cards as they shared the duty of minding the jailhouse in the rotating roster shared by the seven.  
  
"What's the problem?" Alex asked wearily as she set her bag down on a nearby chair.  
  
"Got a prisoner," Chris answered putting down his cards, the game forgotten now business had to be taken care of. "He's been calling for a doctor."  
  
"What about Nathan?" Alex inquired automatically as her gaze shifted in the direction of the narrow corridor leading to the cells.  
  
"He's in there already," Buck replied. "He can't find nothing wrong but ol' Sid keeps saying he has this pain."  
  
"He is a pain." Chris growled with uncharacteristic annoyance. "Nathan wanted you to have a look at him, see if you can tell what's wrong with him before we decide that he's just faking it and we can go back to ignoring him again."   
  
"Sounds like a plan," Alex said shortly, unashamed about hiding her own irritation at being summoned here. "I'll go take a look."   
  
"You okay?" Chris asked with concerned, noticing she did seem a little out of sorts if not a little exhausted. Nathan had been reluctant to call Alex because the healer knew she worked all day whether it was an office consultation or making house calls. While her presence had managed to give Nathan more time to spend with his law enforcement duties in Four Corners, Nathan knew the ease on his burden only added to her own.  
  
"You do look kind of piqued." Buck agreed whose observation of the fairer sex was more expert than anyone else in the room.  
  
"It's been a long day," she looked at both men, feeling a little guilty about taking out her bad mood on them both. "I'll be fine." She said with a little smile and then looked at Chris, "you're mellowing with marriage."   
  
"Now you're getting nasty." Chris frowned as she continued towards the cells. He saw Buck grinning at him and had to ask. "What?"  
  
"She's right you know," Buck said as they started following her. "You are mellowing."  
  
"Drop dead Buck."   
  
"See?" Buck declared with triumph in his voice as the two men disappeared down the length of corridor that would bring them to cells in the jailhouse. "Before you got married, you would have just hit me."  
  
While Alex had never been a victim of Sid Crawley herself, she knew several women in town who were traumatised by his activities. The man himself hardly seem to be the type to cause so much outrage that husbands were demanding his head on a platter, while the more vehement types required a more symbolic gesture, none of which was legal in any state. Sid was a reedy man, painfully thin and ugly as sin. He was the kind who had no redeeming physical attributes and was apparently as stupid as he was a drunkard.  
  
Unfortunately, when he was sober, he had a more salacious past time which was why he was inside this room.  
  
"Okay Sid," Nathan said as Alex was given entry into the cell. "Tell the doctor what's wrong."

Nathan stood from the chair next to the prisoner's bed. Sid was lying in a foetal position, moaning in pain as Alex approached them.  
  
"I need help." The man said through a series of moans  
  
"Well," Alex sighed as she took up the chair Nathan had vacated for her. "What are his symptoms?" She asked the healer as Chris and Buck kept a watchful eye over the proceedings from the door to the cell.  
  
"Says he has pains in the stomach." Nathan replied, not believing for an instant there was anything really wrong with Sid but was required in good conscience to seek a second opinion. After all, he did not know all the doctoring in the world and if this was caused by something he had not seen before, Nathan was unwilling to let Sid suffer for his mistake. "I've checked him out and there don't seemed to be any reason for it."  
  
"Gastro problems can be tricky," Alex had to admit as she turned to Sid who was fumbling under the blanket, appearing as if he were clutching his stomach. "All right Mr. Crawley. Let's see what's wrong with you."  
  
"I'm sick!" The man suddenly came to life and flung the blanket off him. He stood up before her, naked from the waist down as he exposed himself to her. Wearing a wide grin on his face that should not have been so pronounced considering how he was endowed, he presented himself to Alex, taking delight in her shocked expression.  
  
"Oh Lord Sid!" Nathan said completely mortified he had been stupid enough to allow Sid to commit another count of the crime which had his sorry behind to be thrown in jail in the first place.  
  
"Now I done the doctor too!" Sid, who was better known as Sid the Flasher, chortled with victory at being able to continue his favourite past time even while he was inside this restrictive surroundings.  
  
"Sid, you got no shame." Buck approached the man while Chris stood at the doorway, rubbing his forehead at the onset of the headache starting to form. "Pull your pants back up!"  
  
Alex was not in the mood for this. She stood up and stared Sid directly in the face and said very coolly. "You are sick Mr. Crawley," she said with a glacial tone to her voice. "Fortunately I do have a cure for your particular affliction."  
  
All three lawmen stared at her with surprise. "You do?" Nathan exclaimed first, because he had never heard of a treatment for the mental sickness that allowed a man to take such pride in this shocking behaviour.  
  
"Yes," Alex nodded and reached for her doctor's bag. Opening the worn leather valise, she reached inside and produced an extremely formidable looking scalpel and turned to Nathan and Buck. "Gentlemen, I'll need your help."  
  
Sid's eyes widened as Buck and Nathan caught on quick to what she was intending. Before Sid could run both men had wrapped their arms around his and were holding him place as Alex turned to him again.

"You Mr Crawley, come under the classification of sex offender. Do you want to know what the penalties for sex crimes in this state are?" She stared at him through narrowed eyes.  
  
"You can't hurt me!" Sid looked at Chris for help and saw the gunslinger shrugging his shoulders in indifference, enjoying Alex's display a great deal, while trying to hide his amusement behind a somber expression.  
  
"Testicular removal." Alex retorted, wearing a little smile of satisfaction seeing his fear.  
  
"What?" Sid stammered.  
  
"She means, they cut your balls off Sid." Buck said helpfully.  
  
If Sid was terrified before, having it explained to him so succinctly sent him into waves of panic.  Alex put down the scalpel and started working on a syringe she had every intention of using on the man. He struggled even harder as both Nathan and Buck lost their efforts to keep themselves from succumbing to the humour of the situation. Even Chris was starting to find a great deal of difficulty in keeping a straight face.  
  
"You have nothing to worry about Mr Crawley," Alex continued. "I have laudanum and when you wake up, you'll be as good as new. Naturally, there will be symptoms. You will gain a little weight and of course there will be some pain, actually _a lot_ of pain. However, that will subside eventually and you'll never have to worry about having these kinds of urges ever again. Although," she paused and offered him a perfectly wicked gleam as she said this. "I seriously doubt that you will ever rise to the occasion or be capable of having normal relations with members of the opposite sex but judging by your activities, I gather that was never a consideration anyway."  
  
"You can't do this!" Sid started to scream. "You can't just take em!"  
  
"Well Sid," Buck found himself adding. "You ain't doing much business with them any how. At least when the good doctor is done with you, you won't never have to worry about being thrown in jail either."  
  
Alex circled the trio and pressed the needle up against Sid's bony rear end. "So good of you to be ready for me." She declared and penetrated the skin with little or no delicacy.  
  
Sid cried out in pain as the syringe emptied its contents into his body. He was still cursing and pleading deliverance from this nightmarish turn of events, seriously impeding the lawmen's attempts to curb their laughter. By the time the sedative did its work and Sid was completely unconscious, both Nathan and Buck had broken into loud guffaws. Alex collected her things almost dispassionately, deciding she really needed that cup of cocoa now.  
  
"That ought to make him more manageable until the morning." Alex remarked as she started out the cell.  
  
"We'll enjoy the quiet." Chris could not help grinning. He loved this woman's sense of humour. "You sure you're okay?" He inquired, genuinely concerned. "Vin should be back pretty soon."  
  
She had to admit seeing the tracker would go a long way to easing her bad mood.

"I hope he had a better day than I did." Alex sighed and then added. "You _are_ mellowing."  
  
"Thanks." Chris returned with a look of mock offence as she left the jail. "And I was starting to like you too."

* * *

  
"If you're not going to be any help, get out of my kitchen!"  
  
Ezra Standish ducked as the pot came flying in his direction. It impacted against the wall of the kitchen inside the saloon and left a sizeable dent as plaster and mortar crumbled from the crater left behind. He stood up astonished at the fact it was actually thrown at him and stared at Inez Recillos in amazement more than anger as she glared at him with rage in her eyes that was completely unjustified in his opinion. He was completely mystified at what caused such a fiery explosion of anger when just moments ago, she had been preparing meals for the paying customers.  
  
"Inez, is there something wrong?" The gambler ventured to ask, knowing even for her this was an unusual display of temper. Besides, the manner in which she was pacing up and down the length of the kitchen counter, with her hands on her hips as she considered his question was proof enough of some discourse.  
  
"Why should there be anything wrong!" She barked. "I am in here doing everything for this place and if the paying customers are not getting their food quickly enough, well tell them I'm really sorry but today I do not care!"  
  
"Inez if you need help..." Ezra said conceding the point she did do most things around here and felt somewhat guilty because she did look genuinely weary. Her normally glowing skin was almost grey and she had the appearance of someone who was on the verge of exhaustion. In fact, she had looked like this for some time now and Ezra felt ashamed because even if half the place belonged to Maude, he was still apart of it. It was just that Inez always had things under control as manager it often required very little input from him for the business to function.  
  
"I don't need any help!" She shouted at him, with almost irrational fervor. "I can do this all by myself. I don't need you and anyone else. I CAN HANDLE THIS ON MY OWN! Now get out of my kitchen!" She fairly roared.  
  
Ezra was not about to argue with her when she was in this state of mind. He paused long enough to give her a curious look before he did as she wished, leaving the room before she really got angry with him. As he stepped out onto the floor of the saloon, he noticed how quiet things were as a roomful of startled faces stared at him for explanation, obviously having heard the altercation in the kitchen.  
  
"What did you say to her?" Josiah Sanchez demanded when Ezra sat down at their table again, with the same stunned expression on his face as the rest of the patrons of the Standish saloon. After a moment, the room returned to normal and it was business as usual except among the lawmen who knew the lady best and recognised this was unusual behaviour from her. If anyone could be counted upon to keep their equilibrium in any situation, it was Inez.  
  
"I assure you Mr Sanchez," Ezra frowned, more worried about Inez that he would like the others to know. "I merely informed her the natives were becoming restless."  
  
"I don't think anyone is gonna be complaining after hearing that." J.D. Dunne remarked as he threw a concerned glance in the direction of the kitchen. "I know I'm scared."  
  
"She's been getting worse lately," Josiah pointed out, wondering what was bothering Inez these past few weeks. The lady always had a fiery temper but lately, it seemed like only the slightest provocation could ignite her fury. It was baffling.  
  
"Maybe it's because of Buck." J.D. suggested.  
  
"Could be," Josiah agreed, aware of how precarious things had been between the two since Chris's wedding. Buck and Inez were no longer on speaking terms since their one time liaison and no matter what anyone tried to say to either to rectify the situation, it seemed nothing would breach the rift created between the two.  
  
"You're the man of the cloth," Ezra remarked. "Perhaps you ought to try and see if the lady will talk to you about her troubles. Since no one else is having much luck with her."  
  
"I'm not in that business any more," Josiah returned. Even though he on occasion, played the part of preacher, it was not a role he relished to any degree. While there was a time in his life where being a preacher was all he ever wanted, Josiah knew it was not meant to be. As much as he tried, he could not simply sit on the sidelines of life, allowing others to experience things while he sat in a position where he was required to dictate to them how they ought to live. It had taken a long time for him to come to terms with the realisation he could not be the kind of preacher he wanted and in doing so, came to the conclusion he could not live with the facade either.  
  
"Do you ever wish you were?" J.D. inquired honestly interested, since Josiah rarely spoke about his days in the ministry.  
  
Josiah eased back into his chair and considered the question, one he had not thought of in quite some time.

"Sometimes." He admitted honestly. "I wonder what kind of a preacher I might have been. My father was a fire and brimstone kind and he believed the way to redeeming a soul was to scare them back to the flock. Me, I always have trouble turning the other cheek. It's a sad thing to know one cannot live up to one's dreams."   
  
"My mamma used to say if you give up your dreams, you die." J.D. pointed out, not liking to think Josiah would consider himself a failure simply because he could not let people get hurt while he was able to help them. As far as the young man was concerned, that only proved Josiah had risen above a standard he set for himself.

"She's right." Josiah agreed. "And so I've been waiting for it to happen but the crows have so far let me linger."  
  
J.D. frowned, disliking even less that Josiah was waiting to die and decided this particular subject needed a quick change of direction. "What about you, Ezra?" He asked. "What was your dream?"  
  
Ezra peered up from above his cards and noticed even Josiah paying close attention in anticipation of his answer. "I do not waste my time on such frivolous notions."   
  
"Oh come on," J.D. pressed, unable to believe someone as well educated and cultured, even though he was a cheat and a gambler, did not have some aspirations, no matter how far fetched it was. "Everybody's got dreams. Are you telling me when you were a kid, you had nothing you wanted to be when you grew up? Nothing at all?"  
  
"Mr Dunne," Ezra shifted uncomfortably in his seat and giving J.D. a look that said plainly to leave the subject alone. "I never had the desire to be any more than what I was. I realize this may be a difficult concept for you to grasp but it is the truth."  
  
"Whatever you say Ezra," the young man retorted, exchanging a glance with Josiah indicating he did not believe a word Ezra was saying any more than Josiah did. However, it was obvious they were not going to pry it from Ezra any time soon. "When I was a kid, I wanted to be the best gunslinger, Rough Rider to ever roam the plains."   
  
"The joys of education through dime store novels." Ezra rolled his eyes in sarcasm.  
  
"Oh I know its dumb now," J.D. replied, never one to be easily offended. It was probably why he was so likeable by the others six men who had made themselves his unofficial guardians and protectors. "But I learned to ride because of it and it wasn't easy doing that in the city, I'll tell you. Still," J.D. said with no hint of regret in his voice, just youthful hope that was infectious even to jaded personalities like Ezra and Josiah, "I reckon I did okay. I got out of the city and I made it here. That's worth something to me."  
  
"I reckon it is." Josiah agreed with a smile while Ezra continued to say nothing.  
  
Dreams? Ezra Standish had no use for them and all they seemed to do was show just how much a failure one was when they did not come true.

* * *

  
Billy Travis watched the full moon in the sky outside the window of his bedroom and felt a great deal of satisfaction knowing he was bringing happiness to the lives of all those he cared about. Most of all, he thought of how grand it would be when he woke up the next morning and told everyone how he was responsible for making all their dreams become a reality. As he prepared for bed, he envisioned how he would make the declaration in front of Chris and his ma and how thrilled they would be that their heart's desire had taken place because he made it happen.  
  
Of course, it was still a mystery to him what he had done during that strange ceremony where Lily had chanted those odd words when for a moment, the air had become deathly cold. Not the familiar cold of winter, but the kind of iciness that chilled your heart. He remembered feeling a little scared as the small gust of wind blew across the objects he had brought to use in the ritual. How they trembled as she chanted the words. He even tried to ignore the strange vibration he felt when the ritual came to an end.  
  
None of it mattered because Lily claimed they had done what they had set out to do. His wish had been granted and when the moon was at its highest tonight, it would happen. All he had to do was close his eyes and tomorrow, he would wake up and everything he had dreamed of for his ma and Chris and in particular, Julia would come to pass. He tried to imagine Julia's beautiful face as she told him how special he was and promised to wait until he got as big as Ezra so he could marry her.  
  
Yes, tomorrow everything would be just _perfect_.


	3. Crossroads

_**CHRIS** _

He had a headache.  
  
Chris Larabee did not know how he could have a headache when his last memory was of going to bed with his wife Mary. However as awareness returned to him with slow deliberation, other things impressed itself upon his memory and only added to the confusion that was filtering into his consciousness. First and foremost, he was not in the last place he remembered. Instead of finding himself in bed with his wife of a few weeks, Chris now found himself inside the confines of what appeared to be a Mexican tavern. That in itself was somewhat of a contradiction because Chris had not been able to cross the border for almost five years and could not for the life of him imagine what he could be doing here, particularly when he had no memory of making the journey.  
  
As the headache started to fate, other things bombarded his psyche with recognition, the sound of music playing in the background and the laughing voices of individuals engaging in a great deal of merriment. Lifting his head from the counter top where his head was rested, Chris surveyed his surroundings, feeling a tiny sliver of familiarity that imbedded itself in the mind like a splinter. A fat, greasy looking man whose clothes were almost as filthy as the glasses he was attempting to clean with a rag stared at him from the other side of the counter. He regarded Chris with nothing more than a slight snort before turning to another customer while chewing a thick cigar.  
  
Chris blinked and continued his examination of the place, taking stock of the customers in the bar, some hidden in the darkened corners of the rooms, hands groping soft round curves in the dark that left tell tale evidence of what was happening in feminine titters. It was a seedy place, the kind one stopped at to be forgotten and certainly, no different from a hundred such waterholes that were scattered along the Mexican border. Most of the patrons were locals and the girls working in the establishment who sold more than drink with their alluring smiles and jet coloured hair, were seeking out potential candidates to buy them watered drinks.  
  
He could not understand how he had come to be here as he rose from the bar stool, almost knocking over the half empty glass of tequila on the counter in front of him. He picked up the glass and took an experimental whiff of the liquid before turning away in revulsion. This was strong stuff, no wonder he had a headache. A part of him wondered if he was dreaming for the more he thought about it, the surer he became that he had been in bed with Mary at last recollection. How he had come to be in this place was a mystery he could not explain or fathom could take place without his knowledge at all. Not to mention, there was something about this place that was really bothering him and he could not for the life of him think what that was right now. The answer skirted on the edge of his awareness, close enough for him to be feel that it was there but not enough to grasp. It was almost maddening.  
  
"Darling, you can take me anywhere." He heard a familiar voice break the relative quiet of his ruminations. It was followed by a decidedly feminine voice making a proposition in Spanish with a tone of seduction that had the power to cross any language barrier.  
  
Buck.  
  
Chris thought as he whirled around and searched for Buck. Why what he not surprised that whenever he woke up and found himself disorientated and confused, Buck was usually at the bottom of it? He stepped away from the bar and strode forward, listening closely for the sound of his friend's voice, wondering what Buck had landed him into this time and more importantly, how he had managed it at all. Leaving the bar, his eyes spotted a sort of dance floor where a trio of musicians was playing a lively number with less enthusiasm than the song itself.  
  
A few people were dancing to the music and he was not surprised to see Buck Wilmington in the centre of it all, locking embraces and tongues for that matter with a rather fetching Spanish beauty. Buck always did have a soft spot for sultry looking Latin women.  
  
"Buck." Chris put his hand on Buck's shoulder and interrupted the dance from becoming some a little more carnal than ought to be on this very public place.  
  
Buck looked over his shoulder and burst into a wide grin, the young lady he was with was not so charitable and kept trying to turn his head back to her lips to continue their passionate exchange. "Chris, I thought you're going to get some sleep upstairs."  
  
  
"Upstairs?" Chris looked at Buck as if he was crazy. "What the hell are you talking about and how did you get me here?" Chris demanded, unimpressed that he had somehow become embroiled in one more of Buck's crazy stunts. He took his marriage vows very seriously and had left all this kind of tomcatting firmly in Buck's lap or the appendage his old friend used to do his thinking.  
  
Buck's eye brow knotted in confusion as his partner started kissing him again and driving the puzzlement from his attention for a few seconds. Chris frowned impatiently, allowing his friend enough time to break the kiss before Chris would start impressing his annoyance a little more acutely. As it was, he did not think he was in Four Corners any more, if the look of this place was anything to go by. Whether or not Mary knew he was here made no difference to Chris, he did not wish to be here especially when here appeared to be Mexico and Chris had very good reasons for not being in Mexico, ever since...  
  
Jesus Christ.  
  
Chris froze and looked around the place and suddenly, the memory returned with the realization. He drifted away from Buck, his eyes studying the place in deeper scrutiny as the answer in the dark finally presented himself. What in God's name was he doing here? As he wandered through the establishment, nothing about it had changed. In fact, if a place could be frozen in time and memory than this seedy little bar on the edge of the border had achieved some measure of that accomplishment.  
  
Chris' stomach knotted inside him as he moved through the place like a dreamer trapped in a nightmare from which he could not awake. This place had been one he had been trying to forget for the last five years It was from here that his life had turned a corner sharply and changed everything he was in a dance of fire. As Chris came to understand that he was in the very tavern that Buck had convinced him to stay the night that Sarah and Adam died, fury bubbled inside of him at the audacity of Buck to bring him back to this place. What the hell was Buck playing at? Chris did not know as he turned around and strode towards his friend, no make that ex-friend, he hoped Buck had damn good explanation for bringing him here.  
  
"Buck, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Chris grabbed Buck by the shoulder and practically tore him from the warm embrace of the Mexican senorita he was well on his way to bedding. Just like that night, Chris thought with seething anger.  
  
"Hey Chris!" Buck pulled away from him, staring at the gunslinger in rising annoyance at his behaviour, while trying not to let the man's abrupt manner get to him. "You know exactly what I'm doing!" He hissed.  
  
"Explain it to me." Chris glared at him in icy coldness.  
  
"Explain what?" Buck retorted with exasperation, wondering what was wrong with his friend. "I told you I wanted to stay the night. If you don't want to say then go home. I can ride back on my own okay?"  
  
"What?" Chris exclaimed, becoming so confused that his anger was giving way to puzzlement. "Buck, if this is one of your practical jokes, I ain't laughing. Now how the hell did you get me away from Four Corners without me knowing?"  
  
Now it was Buck's turn to be confused as the big man stared back at Chris with similar bewilderment. "Four Corners? What are you talking about? Have you been dipping into some of that rotgut they got serving on the cheap? Chris, you know better than to dip your beak into that stuff."  
  
Now Chris was really starting to get upset. "I ain't drunk and this little joke of yours has gone far enough. I don't appreciate being brought back to this place of all places Buck.. You know I don't go south ever since Sarah and Adam died."  
  
Buck Wilmington stared at Chris blankly. "Chris, Sarah and Adam are fine. They're at home." His anger had faded away because he was now worried that there was really something wrong with Chris. All thoughts of the young lady behind him were forgotten as Buck saw Chris' face change from annoyance and anger to something he could not define.  
  
"Buck, that's not funny." Chris swallowed, wondering how Buck of all people could be toying with him like this. If it were not for the years behind them, Chris would have already shot him for the insult. "This whole thing isn't funny. I don't know how you got me back here and I don't care but I'm heading out to Four Corners, you can stay here if you like and continue this little game of yours."  
  
"Like hell you are." Buck grabbed his arm to stop him. "You're not going anywhere. You're sick in the head, Chris and I'm getting you home right now to Sarah."  
  
"STOP SAYING THAT!" Chris exploded, wrenching free from Buck. "She's dead! She's been dead for five years. She and Adam! Why do you keep saying that they're alive?"  
  
"Because she was fine this morning!" Buck answered sharply. "She was fine this morning when we left to get the horses! Don't you remember?"  
  
Chris blinked and started to understand on some level what was happening, even though he could not fathom much else beyond that deduction. Suddenly, only one question burned in his mind and its answer would explain everything, as much as any of this could be, he supposed.  
  
"Buck what year is this?"  
  
Buck's eyes widened with the question and was about to offer another babble of confusion when he saw the hard expression on Chris' face and realized that he was serious being answered. "What its always been," Buck replied after a moment. "1875."  
  
1875.  
  
It was impossible. Chris struggled to find some evidence that this was apart of some elaborate joke on Buck's part but as he stared at the man's eyes, Chris knew without doubt that Buck was completely serious about his answer and sincerely believed this unimaginable date was exactly what it was.  
  
However, that notion soon eclipsed another thought that had the power to paralyze just as completely. If Buck was telling the truth and through some freak of nature which he could not even begin to explain, Chris was truly back in the year 1875 then he would have no idea of anything that had transpired in the last five years because none of it had happened.  
  
And this was the night that Sarah and Adam would die.

* * *

_**MARY**_  
  
  
Although her new husband was difficult to rouse out of sleep before midday, Mary Larabee still found it impossible to sleep in to those kinds of hours. Her body clock, possessing a will of its own would immediately awaken her at the predestined time. No matter how much she wished to linger alongside Chris' warmth and snuggle up to him for the rest of the morning, she would find herself getting restless after a few minutes and the need to get the day started would become overwhelming. As a mother, newspaper editor and now wife, Mary found there were hardly enough hours to fit all of it in to her day and sometimes, she wondered if it would be simpler if she gave up one or two of these roles. Or at the very least, do as Chris suggested and get some help to do some of her household chores. Somehow, the idea of turning to someone else to manage her responsibilities was something that Mary could not abide.  
  
As always, she woke up to the sun peeking through the curtains of her window. Mary rubbed the sleep out of her eyes as she started to climb out of her bed, running through the list of things she had to do when suddenly, she noticed she was wearing a nightgown. For a moment, she paused at the sight of the white cotton dress over her body when she distinctively remembered discarding it last night. Considering the intensity of their sexual intimacy at the present time, it seemed somewhat redundant wearing something that would be stripped moments after she was alone with him. Not that this was a bad thing, Mary thought with a smile but somehow, she could not understand how she had come to wear this garment.  
  
She supposed she must have put it on, she decided after a moment and promptly brushed away the thought since it mattered little whether or not she was dressed in her night gown since she was getting up and would have to wear something anyway. Leaning over the tangle of sheets, she felt Chris' warm body still sleeping and found herself chuckling to hear that he snored slightly. Funny, she had not remembered him displaying this particular characteristic before today. Mary was about to press her lips against his in a gentle kiss when suddenly she made a most startling discovery that almost made her fall out of the bed.  
  
It was not Chris lying there. It was Stephen.  
  
For a moment, she merely stared in absolute shock at Stephen Travis who was slumbering most fitfully as if he had always been there. All she could do was remain trapped in place, her mind frozen with shock as her eyes took in the sight of him. He looked no different that the last time she had seen him, that terrible night she had gone visiting and left him alone with Billy. Her heart pounded in her chest as she moved to touch him, almost afraid that he would disappear if she made contact because he was an apparition that would disappear when she woke up from this dream.  
  
It had to be a dream. It was the only explanation that Mary could wrap her mind around. She remained seated on the mattress, her legs folded as she stared at her husband and father of her child. Mary found herself melting in regret, knowing that he was gone and she would wake up from this dream soon enough but for the moment, allowed herself to feel the joy of seeing him again, even in this limited fashion.  
  
Strange how many things returned to her after so many years, the way his chest would rise and fall as he slept, how he liked to remain on his side, with his feet sticking out from under the sheets cause he could never stand them being covered up. With a slight smile, she remembered how many midnight arguments that had caused during the winter when Mary would complain that his habit was keeping her toes in perpetual freezing. Her fingers touched his warm skin and gently ran the course of his side, moving over his ribs and waist in its downward descent.  
  
It even felt the same and the discovery almost brought her to tears, even though her eyes were already glistening with emotion. She found herself snuggling next to him, her arms sliding over his body as she held him close to her for as long as this dream continued. Mary continued holding Stephen as the tears came and she was visited by memories of their life together. A life gone forever by one greedy landowner's bullet. God, how she had lived for him all her life. When he had died, Mary had thought she would go to, there were moments when she had actually considered ending it all because being without him was unimaginable. Then she would remember Billy and tell herself that her son was all that was left of Stephen. To die was to abandon Billy and in turn that would mean abandoning Stephen and Mary could never do that.  
  
How could she forget the young man who used to show her that the nights can sparkle even when there was not a cloud in the sky? He who gave Mary her first corsage, who said it was perfectly all right that she wanted to be a journalist.  
  
Everything she became from the day she ventured out into the world had Stephen's influence. She wondered what he would have thought about the woman that was left in his wake of his death. Mary liked to think he would have been proud of what she had managed to accomplish.  
  
Suddenly he stirred under her touch, rubbing himself against her body as he started to come out of his sleep. Languidly, he turned around and met her gaze, staring into her blue grey eyes with the same intensity that Mary marveled by the acuity of this particular fantasy in her mind. He seemed so real, she thought as she smiled at him.  
  
"Good morning." He whispered with a smile and met her lips with his own.  
  
"Stephen." Mary replied, unable to keep the emotion from her voice as she reached for his cheek and caressed his cheek. "I love you so much. You'll never forget that will you?"  
  
He noticed she was crying and immediately returned her sorrow filled gaze with one of puzzlement. "Mary, darling what's wrong?" He asked, propping himself up on one elbow.  
  
"I just miss you so much." She replied, deciding it was necessary to say all this before she awoke from this dream and he was lost to her again.  
  
"I haven't gone anywhere." He pointed out, starting to think that his wife might have just roused herself from a nightmare and had not quite grasped the notion that she was awake. "I'm not going anywhere love." He enclosed her hand with his palm and started showing the delicate hand with soft kisses  
  
"You will," she swallowed, astonished by how real all this felt. "You'll disappear one day and leave me alone to raise Billy myself."  
  
"Mary." He said with a little more determination to convince her that he was very much alive. "Listen to me, I am alive and I'm not going anywhere." He responded. "I've got too much to do today to do something as inconvenient as dying. I've got to write a letter to dad and see about getting a proper sheriff in this town. That idiot we've got at the jailhouse is useless, not to mention the editorial I'm meant to write for the paper."  
  
Mary stared at him and started to believe that he might be telling the truth. After all, if this was a dream then it was certainly the most realistic one she had ever had in her life. The smell of him, the way the light was shining in her eyes and the familiarity of the setting had a substance to it that was steeped in reality, not in the dream world. It was impossible though, she told herself defiantly, unable to believe that this could be real, not matter how much she might want it to be. Stephen had died because she had stood at his funeral wanting to die with him. The agony in her heart had been too acute and too horrible to be anything but real.  
  
"God I think you're right." She managed to say and reacted by throwing her arms around him and pulling him to her in the warmest embrace she could manage. Mary could tell that he was surprised by the intensity of the embrace but said nothing about it, choosing instead to return it with equal fervor.  
  
"Of course I am." He smiled when he parted from her. "Now come on Mrs. Travis," he grinned climbing out of bed. "We've got work to do today."  
  
"Yes," Mary nodded mutely, uncertain of anything at this moment and playing along until she could better understand what was going on. Although she had accepted that she was not having some vivid dream and the possibility that this might be real was gaining momentum, Mary still wanted to know how it could have happened. If Stephen was here, what has happened to the rest of her life? With a sinking feeling, she realized with almost shame that she had not thought about Chris. What has happened to Chris?  
  
No sooner than the thought had crossed her mind, she heard the sound of gunfire exploding in the air. Both Stephen and Mary jumped together in shock at the sudden eruption of noise. It was hard to tell how many shots there were because it appeared more than one person was firing at the same time. Judging by the noises, it was not coming from too far away from the house.  
  
"Get down!" Stephen ordered as he scrambled to the window.  
  
Mary rolled off the bed and landed on the floor away from the window, taking shelter from the gunfire by its structure. "Stephen, be careful!" She called out. Now that she had him back again, she did not want to lose him to a stray bullet. She wondered why they were not in the house out of town and then recalled that they had talked about moving closer to town and the paper.  
  
"I'm fine." Stephen replied, peering cautiously out the window at what was transpiring in the town below. Four Corners was never the safest place in the world and at times like this, he wondered what he was still doing here. Sense would dictate that he should take his family away from the Territory, back to the safety of the East where there was some semblance of law and order.  
  
"Damn drunks," the newspaper man frowned. He watched the men riding up and down the street, drunk and rowdy, firing their guns in the air and generally scaring the hell out of people because they were so liquored up that they hardly knew what time of day it was, let alone held any sense. "Its those damn Texans that came off the trail yesterday," he told Mary, flinching at the sound of a breaking window somewhere too close for comfort. "I knew they were going to be trouble."  
  
"Texans?" Mary's thought quickly, something about this whole scene having a measure of familiarity to it, she could not place for an instant as she lay cowering behind her bed.  
  
Then it came to her. Texans! The ones who rode into town to get medical attention for their trail boss. The man who would die because Nathan Jackson had not been able to cure the gangrene that had rotted away his body beyond the ability of any healing that Nathan could administer. With a start she realized that the antics of those men had began on the morning of Nathan's lynching just like this. Eventually, the liquor would make them so dangerous that they would lay the blame for their leader's death on the healer who had tried to save him.  
  
"Stephen," she had to ask. "Did Mr. Hennessy get a new store clerk this week?"  
  
"He did," Stephen looked over his shoulder at the strangeness of that request. "I ran into him yesterday, quiet enough fellow. Used to be a buffalo hunter, I think. I fail to see the relevance of the question." He retorted before another window was shattered somewhere nearby and drove the thought from his mind completely.  
  
Mary took a deep breath, confirming her suspicions what day this was. If Vin Tanner was here and Nathan was about to be lynched sometime today, that could only mean one thing. .  
  
Chris Larabee was at this moment, riding into Four Corners.  


* * *

_**VIN** _

  
Vin Tanner did not know where the hell he was.  
  
The last thing he remembered was sleeping it off after Alex had made it up to him most spectacularly for the embarrassment he had to endure in Sweet Water before waking up in the middle of nowhere. It was more the mystery of how he had arrived here at this point in time that concerned him more than where he actually was. Vin had woken up to the sound of Peso's familiar nickering, wondering what the hell his horse was doing in Alex's bedroom when he found himself in the folds of his bedroll with the stars above his head.  
  
If this was not enough to alarm the most reasonable of men, when Vin took the time to examine those very stars, he saw that there appeared to some difference as to their positioning. While the difference was slight, it was enough to know that he was some distance from Four Corners. Considering that he had no idea how he had come to be where he was, let alone how he had been brought here without slightest hint that he had been moved was quite disturbing. However, it was not just his sudden change of location that was so disconcerting. The weather was inordinately warm for winter and it was on further investigation of the terrain around him that Vin discovered that it was not all winter, it was early spring.  
  
Even through the darkness, he could see traces of spring growth through the illumination of the camp fire in the surrounding area. Vin could not understand what was happening. Judging by the campfire and the gear that he had strewn before the fire for use, it looked as if he had been out on the trail for sometime. Yet he knew that only a short time ago, he was with Alex. He could still remember the heat of her body against his as he wrapped his arms around in the wake of their love making. Her scent was still fresh in his nostrils.  
  
Deciding that he was not going to stay around here to find out, the tracker decided to break camp. He quickly got to his feet and started packing his gear, trying to understand what lapse of memory could have possibly explained what had happened to him. Peso seemed oblivious to his confusion even though the sight of the horse was comforting to its owners in ways that could not be explained. At least, Peso being here meant that he was not completely mad.  
  
It did not take Vin very long to have everything packed onto his saddle again, although he was still very confused. He did not recognize the terrain, at least not in the dark and felt very disorientated by the fact that he did not know where he was. For a man accustomed, to being able to find paths where none existed, being lost like this was very unsettling. After Vin had killed the fire of his campsite, he mounted Peso and started riding back towards the direction of Four Corners, using only the stars to guide him.  
  
He had not ridden very far when he realized that even for a spring night, the weather was unusually warm. Vin came to the realization that the temperature was higher than what was normally experienced in the general area of Four Corners and that part of the territory. Also, as Peso progressed across the darkened landscape, Vin was able to tell that there was none of the rocky and hilly terrain of the terrain. Everything before and after them was flat. He had thought the Texas Panhandles was flatter than a tack but this place was not much better.  
  
Vin recalled travelling terrain like this once before and was suddenly visited by a terrible idea that somehow he had been transported back to Texas. He could not even begin to imagine how this happened to him and was right now more focused with getting back to Four Corners so he could figure it out with the company of friends who might know what was going on. He doubted however, that any explanation was ever going to be simple. Still, the heat did feel like Texas weather and that was a problem. In this state, he was still wanted for murder and Vin had no intention of facing that particular thorn in his side until he knew what had transpired tonight.  
  
As Vin continued along the track, certain features of the land began to take on a familiar shape, sparking memories that he might have come across this way at some other point in time. Suddenly, Vin began to feel very uneasy the further away from the campsite he got until finally, in the distance, the deepening mystery presented itself in the form of a farm house, in the distance. Upon seeing the place did Vin realize where he was and that was enough to scare the hell out of him. For a moment, he remained mounted on the horse, staring into the abandoned home on the flat plain. At least he assumed it was abandoned because there was no light in the window and he heard no sound that animals might have been stabled in the barn.  
  
That of course did not mean anything, Vin decided. On the night he had first stumbled across this place, he had not heard any sounds of life. This was most likely because Eli Joe had stolen what livestock that could be converted into money and killed the rest out of sheer spite. Vin felt his heart pound in his chest as some morbid fascination at how the homestead had fared since his last visit, prompted him to ride onto the property. History repeating itself, Vin thought to himself as he rode past the fence, finding the break that would take him past the boundary line. Back then, he had told himself that investigating was not a good idea and the same reminder rung true even now, and like before he ignored the advice.  
  
If he had just kept going, he would never have found the body and in turn, would never have been foolish enough to take it back to Tuscosa in some misguided notion that the corpse in fact, belonged to Eli Joe. He would be a free man, without mark or fear of the law and he would have been free to marry Alex, instead of keeping their relationship in stalemate because he was a fugitive. Still, it was pointless to tear himself apart over things he could not change because he had taken the body back to Tuscosa and he was a fugitive.  
  
Everything appeared to be the same, the quiet, the foreboding atmosphere that he was reaching a crossroads in his life and would eventually take the wrong turn. It was all there, thickening the air like something he could cut through with a knife. Despite himself, he felt a slight shudder of uneasiness ran down his spine and knew that it was nerves, deja vu and the madness that had thrust him here in this place where only a few hours ago, he had been sharing the bed of the woman he loved. He could not understand it any more than that strange circumstance and as Vin regarded the moon in the night sky, that looked almost red instead of its usual luminescent colour, he knew something was afoot that was beyond the explanation of man. The Indians used to tell him about the spirit world and how the dead sometimes walked among the living. At this moment, he could feel those spectral visitors most profoundly.  
  
He neared the house and recalled that he had found the body lying face down in the water through for the horses, riddled with bullets. At the time, Vin had believed that one of Eli Joe's associates had done the outlaw in, having studied enough about the bounty he had sought to claim to learn that the man was not only devious but a notorious double crosser. Unfortunately, even Vin had underestimated just how devious Eli Joe was capable of being when he concocted the trail to rid himself of his persistent hunter. There were moments when the tracker wondered how if he had known what lay ahead, would he have continued the chase?  
  
Vin neared the house and saw the water through under the moonlight. From a distance all he saw was its darkened shape and the moon bouncing of the reflection of the water. As he approached, he heard Peso pause a moment, as if the horse was deciding whether or not it ought to proceed.  
  
"What is it boy?" Vin asked, running his hand against the animal's flank, attempting to soothe the distress it was obviously feeling by its hesitation to continue. Only after a few seconds of gentle cajoling, Vin managed to induce Peso to continue and wondered what was it about this place that disturbed his horse so much. Peso had behaved with the same dislike during their last visit here.  
  
"Don't worry," Vin muttered. "We'll be out of here soon enough."  
  
The horse neighed in response, sounding almost relieved by the tone of his master's voice. Peso was normally a reliable animal; having endured trials that would make most horses buck and threw its rider off. However, Vin knew he had achieved a kinship with the gelding and he liked to think that Peso valued him just as deeply.  
  
It was only until they were a few feet away from the water through, did Vin see what had upset Peso earlier on. The body lay in almost the exact position as the one Vin had come across all those years ago. For a moment, the tracker thought someone was playing an extremely nasty trick on him and if it were not for the fact that Eli Joe was dead, Vin would have almost believed that the outlaw was behind this. Feeling his breath hollow in his throat, Vin dismounted Peso even though baser instincts were telling him to leave. He did not need the trouble of another death being attributed to him. If they thought that he was a murderer with multiple deaths on his conscience, he could just forget about clearing his name right now or ever marrying Alex.  
  
However, he was compelled to look at the victim lying prone in the water through, headfirst. As Vin approached it, he felt like he was seeing a replay of events that had transpired before. All this seemed too familiar and yet he knew it was impossible. From behind, the corpse looked almost identical. Bullet wounds in the back of the old, dark coat, the same light coloured pants with a patch on one leg and the boots with a strap missing on one side. It was as if someone had taken a picture of this scene from straight out of his mind and recreated it  
  
Vin pulled the body backwards, grunting slightly at the bulk of it. Once it was upright, it fell towards Vin, spraying the tracker in water Vin knew contained blood. Jumping away in revulsion, the man's head lolled backwards, offering Vin a full view of his face.  
  
"Jesus Christ." Vin exclaimed, knowing the visage of the man before him anywhere. It was impossible. Vin had seen them bury him! He had ridden almost three days back to Tuscosa with the corpse and it had been this man here! Yet there could be no mistake about the body or the man it had been.  
  
It was Jess Kincaid.

* * *

_**ALEX**_  
  
"Doctor Styles." A very unfamiliar voice called.  
  
Alexandra Styles stirred in her sleep and found that where she was doing it was not very comfortable. She raised her head from the hard surface and found herself lying against a desk. For a moment, she wondered if Vin was playing some kind of joke on her for making him walk through Sweet Water smelling like rose water, carrying material that was clearly for a lady's dress. However, as clarity returned to the young woman, she realized that she was not all in her office.  
  
It looked for all intensive purposes like her office because she could see many of her personal items in the room, her father's books, some trinkets she had picked up when she was travelling with him across the globe and her medical degrees were framed on the wall. Whatever this place was, it definitely was her office.  
  
"Doctor Styles." The voice repeated and Alex found herself staring wide eyed at a rather matronly woman, wearing the unmistakable uniform of a nurse.  
  
"Yes?" Alex answered almost meekly because she was very confused and when she was confused had learnt it was best to keep quiet until her bearings could be regained.  
  
"Its almost time." The woman reminded, looking at Alex as if she had imparted some knowledge that the doctor should already know instead of looking bewildered. "You asked me to give you a reminder." She continued, hoping that this little bit of information would go some way to alleviating the blank expression on the young woman's face.  
  
"Time for what?" Alex asked.  
  
"Surgery, Doctor." The nurse was starting to get worry lines on her face as she regarded Alex as unfit to be let anywhere near a patient.  
  
"Of course," Alex nodded, "I'm sorry." She quickly responded. "I'm just waking up."  
  
That seemed to pacify her because she broke into an understanding smile. "They'll be expecting you in ten minutes." She answered before withdrawing from the room once again.  
  
Alex watched her silhouette disappear through the frosted glass on her office door before releasing a sigh of relief at the woman's departure and content that she was finally alone. Once she had the room to herself, Alex jumped out of her chair and took closer examination of where she was. As observed earlier, this was definitely her office even though every logical sense in Alex's body was telling her that this was impossible. Her last memory was of falling asleep in Vin's arms, not this fantasy that appeared frighteningly real around her. Alex moved to the window and looked outside. She wrestled with the notion that she might dreaming upon seeing what lay beyond it.  
  
However, this felt too real to be a dream, even if her mind had decreed that what she was experiencing was impossible. Outside, her office overlooked a park, more precisely a hospital park because patients were being pushed around by nurses, people in robes were wandering about enjoying the manicured beauty of the greenery around them. The day outside seemed idyllic as well and the heat of the sun, told Alex that this was not winter in Four Corners but summer some place else. In the distance, above the tree line, she could see buildings that ran off into the horizon, some that even towered over the fashionable double storied structures that was common to the town. Wherever this place was that she now found herself, it was a city.  
  
Returning to her so called desk to see if there was anything that might explain how this could be, Alex shifted through the papers and writing implements long enough to note that she was definitely in a hospital. There enough files of case histories and diagnostic sheets to indicate that if this reality was anything to go by, she had a great many patients. However, what caught her attention most was some hospital stationery that had her hand writing scribbled on it. The writing itself was incidental, for it was notes on a particular case of heart disease. It was the printing that was emblazoned across the sheet of paper that captured her interest the most.  
  
BOSTON MERCY HOSPITAL  
  
Boston?  
  
This was Boston? Alex thought frantically and immediately went to the window to see for herself even though she had done so only a short time ago. With this knowledge in hand, Alex who had never been to the city before, studied what was before her and knew that as insane as it must be, the city beyond this lush park could be Boston. Stunned, Alex decided she had to get out of this place, so that she could gather her thoughts. At the moment, she had no idea what was happening, beyond the fact that suddenly, she was a doctor in a big city hospital once who in about ten minutes would have to perform surgery.  
  
Is that what she had always wanted?  
  
When that realization hit her, Alex paused long enough to wonder if this was not indeed some dream she was having since it had granted her most deepest wish. All her life this is what she had wished for, to be recognized as a doctor and to be treated with the respect every other physician was given without second thought because they were men. If she was to suspend her belief at the impossibility of the situation to actually consider that she might be exactly where she appeared to be then her entire life the last year would be meaningless. She would never have gone to Four Corners, she would never have started her practice there and she would have never have met Vin.  
  
Vin Tanner would never have even known she existed.  
  
If there was one thing that could spoil the sweetness of this whole dream or reality, whatever this was, it was knowing that the tracker was not in her life.  
  
The whole idea that their lives had gone on divergent paths was enough to send genuine fear running through her in unrelenting waves. She could not live without him and the truth of the matter, she refused to. The months she shared with him, good times and bad were moments she would not trade for anything. It was surprising how quickly she was able to make this choice when once upon a time, her career would have meant everything to her. Still, she had no idea that any of this was real, so she was not inclined to make decisions on anything until she knew for certain what was going on.  
  
Deciding she could not stay in this room indefinitely because someone was bound to come looking for her eventually, Alex chose to make an exit. She peered out the door through the crack of an opening and saw the corridor outside to be indicative of a busy city hospital. People were moving up and down the corridors, some were patients, others were doctors and nurses but the general atmosphere beyond this room was energetic to say the least.  
  
Alex stepped out into it gingerly, raising no suspicion of anyone as she blended into the main body of people moving away from her office. She glanced on the door and saw her name painted neatly in black against the glass which more or less confirmed that this was indeed her office.  
  
ALEXANDRA STYLES  
SURGEON  
  
If this was a dream, it was a very convincing one, she frowned, wondering if there was anything else that could be thrown at her to make this fantasy any more appealing. She walked through the corridors, looking quite the tourist as she stared wide eyed at everything, while wrestling with the greater problem of how she had been transported across the country to find herself in this place. There was still a part of her that was convinced she was still in her house in Four Corners, asleep and this was nothing more than the product of an over active imagination.  
  
The detail was perfect if it was imagination for she could smell the acrid stench of hospital disinfectant in her nostrils as she wandered through the halls of the building, passing by wards and examination rooms.  
  
"Doctor Styles!" The nurse that had informed her about the surgery she was required to perform called out to her across the crowded room.  
  
Oh hell. Alex swore under her breath, remembering that this little scenario required her to play the part of a surgeon who was due in an operating theater. As much as the idea intrigued her, Alex was in no condition to be cutting into anyone in her state of mind, real or imagined. She quickly made up an excuse in her head as she went to meet the woman.  
  
"I'm sorry Nurse," Alex quickly apologized as the woman frowned at her in disapproval for not being where she was meant to be at this point. "I'm feeling a little under the weather, could you please have some one sit in for me?"  
  
Disapproval quickly melted into concern as the elderly woman, whose name Alex did not even know, studied her with deep scrutiny upon being imparted this new information. "You do look rather pale." She agreed and then nodded firmly. "You let me take care of it Doctor Styles, I'm sure Doctor Harris will be happy to take over."  
  
"Thank you." Alex turned to leave.  
  
"Shall I have someone sent for a cab?" She asked before Alex could gain any distance. "I gather you will want to go home."  
  
Home? Where the hell did she live? Alex turned to her, trying to hide her confusion once again. "Of course," she smiled faintly. "I would appreciate that."  
  
"Well you get some rest and we will see you when you are feeling better." The woman said warmly and Alex only wished she had a nurse like that in Four Corners.  
  
This was too strange, Alex shook her head as she started towards the main entrance of the building, really needing to be away from this place right now. She knew she was not crazy and she was starting to believe that this was no dream and everything before was real and not some trick, her mind was playing upon her. She waded through the bodies moving past her as she tried to leave, feeling somewhat overwhelmed by how real they felt as she brushed past them.  
  
"Alex!" Someone called her name over the drone of voices.  
  
Oh what now? Alex groaned as she tried to see who it was that was seeking her out now. For a place she had never been before, it seemed everyone and their dog knew where to find her.  
  
Alex turned around to the voice and stopped short. Her eyes widened in absolute astonishment at the impossibility of what she was seeing but for once she really did not care. He looked exactly the same, wearing the favourite dark suit that he always wore no matter what the occasion. For a moment, Alex's heart stopped beating in her chest as he approached her, wearing a smile on his face that she had come to know so well. The emotion overtook Alex as he reached her and the only word that was able to escape her lips made no sense to him but all the world to her.  
  
"Daddy."

* * *

  
_**EZRA** _

 

The alarm clock that tore through the air with its shrill sound almost made Ezra Standish go for his gun and shoot it. Instead, he raised his head long enough to grab the object and fling it away from him, where it continued to make itself heard, despite the distance between itself and its master. Ezra swore, using words not at all proper for the southern gentleman that he was and staggered out of bed, trying to make it stop so he could go back to sleep. He stumbled out of his bed, feeling the effects of last night's libations most profoundly in his head and deciding that whoever had opted to put this whole device in his room was going to die when he got his hands on them.  
  
Crossing the floor, still half asleep, Ezra paid no attention to his surroundings as he followed the sound of the relentless clock, ringing its purpose through the air and his sanity. It rested against the far corner of the room, lying face down but still determined to wake its master, no matter what the consequences to itself. Ezra bend over and picked up the metal object, still ringing so loudly that Ezra was tempted to go the more satisfying way of flinging it out of the window instead of doing the intelligent thing by turning it off.  
  
Window? What window?  
  
It was at this point that Ezra came to the realization that he did not have a window in his room above the saloon and really looked at where he was. What he saw made him forget the alarm clock completely as he dropped it from his hand and let it ring without registering the sound. Ezra stared in absolute amazement at his new surroundings, which was by far not the place he had retired to last night. For starters the room was bigger, a lot bigger. With polished wooden floor and expensive rugs covering parts of it, he saw expensive draperies and what he was certain were authentic Edwardian pieces of furniture furnishing the place. The windows were of the French variety, offering a picturesque view of the garden beyond. It was well tended, with hedges trimmed into shapes of animals by a gardener who was at this moment, doing some fine pruning.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Standish." The man waved to him as Ezra was standing by the window.  
  
Ezra could manage nothing more than a confused wave in return as he continued his observations out of the man's view. The heat of the air told Ezra immediately where he was, or at least gave the gambler a general idea of where he might be. From the humidity of the air and the familiar heat that made the nightshirt he was wearing remain plastered to his back, he knew he was somewhere in the south, possibly New Orleans, perhaps even Charleston. Having come to this conclusion, the next logical step was trying to understand how this could even happen at all.  
  
He knew that he had gone to bed in a saloon last night in Four Corners and other than one brief period of wakefulness where it was necessary to carry out some bodily functions, nothing unusual had taken place. However, it would appear that something was a miss because he was not only not anywhere in Four Corners, but he was dressed in a nightshirt where it was his habit to wear as little as possible to bed. As Ezra examined himself for any more surprises, he suddenly caught sight of a glint of gold on his left finger.  
  
Upon closer examination, Ezra came to the frightening conclusion that the bauble on his finger, with its simple design and no stone setting of any kind, was a wedding ring. He had no idea what was worse, the fact that he had no idea how he had come to be here or the fact that the wearer of THE matching ring to the one he wore belonged to his wife. Maybe he was dreaming. Of course, Ezra nodded to himself, because that would explain everything wouldn't it? He had finally been driven delirious by the cheap whiskey he had become accustomed to drinking since taking up residence in Four Corners.  
  
Suddenly, the door swung open and a woman walked into the room far enough to pause at the doorway and meet his gaze, with her hands on her hips. "Really Ezra," she huffed as she walked towards him.  
  
"Annabelle?" Ezra found himself exclaiming, remembering the girl from his youth.  
  
She had been quite the beauty with dark auburn curls and sapphire coloured eyes whom had apparently grown up to become a striking young woman. When he had been left at one of the many relatives that Maude could find who would take him, for a time he and Annabelle had been the closest of friends. As close any seven years old could be of course. Even though she looked a world away from that child, he could recognize the gentle beauty of that face anywhere.  
  
"Yes dear," she said paying more attention to the clock ringing at his feet to his startled expression. Leaning down, she picked up the offending object and promptly turned it off, silencing it for at least twenty four hours. "Now Ezra, I know you're all giddy from winning your latest case but its just one case. You're still have to go to work today."  
  
"Work?" Ezra stammered.  
  
"I know you want to relax after the verdict yesterday, but you are expected." She said planting a firm kiss on his cheek. "Now, I'll lay your clothes out while you go downstairs, Olive has breakfast waiting for you." She continued her rambling as she walked to a cupboard and pulled it open, revealing a wardrobe of clothes that appeared to be his. "Incidentally, you are very busy at work today in case Elizabeth asks. She's still determined to spend the day at the office with you. I'm sure she'll get over it in a few days, she's just wants to see what her father does all day."  
  
Father? He was a father?  
  
Ezra tried to hide his shock but this was getting too much for him. He had no idea what was going on, what he was doing winning cases, he assumed that meant legal cases, which led him to the conclusion that Annabelle believed he was a lawyer and he apparently had a daughter named Elizabeth. He was still staring at her in a mixture of shock and disbelief at his whole situation when she huffed in annoyance at his still standing where he was, not making one move to follow any of her instructions.  
  
"Ezra!" She grabbed an unfamiliar robe and pushed it into his hands. "Get going! You're going to be late!"  
  
Ezra could find nothing to say to counter her statement before she was ushering him towards the door. The gambler could not shake his confounded state of mind even when he found himself outside the bedroom in the hall. Unconsciously, he slipped on the robe she had thrust into his hands, trying to decided what madness was responsible for any of this. This was J.D.'s fault, he thought to himself as he walked down the hall way of what appeared to be a rather expensive house. If J.D. had not started talking about secret dreams, Ezra would not having the dream he was at this moment Although, he supposed with a faint smile, it was as close to detail as what he used to imagine as a child, even to having Annabelle as his wife.  
  
When he had been a child, inflicted upon the relatives Maude Standish had conned into taking him, Ezra had dreamed of one thing amidst their cruel jibes and long held beliefs that he would turn out just as nefarious as his mother. He had endured their dislike, knowing full well that he was tolerated simply because the freakish nature of things had allowed him to be their kin. They raised him out of familial obligation even though they were certain he would end up to be a grifter like his mother. Ezra remembered bearing their insults, vowing to himself that one day, he would show them all. For as long as he could remember, he wanted to be someone who had made good and was respected.  
  
He supposed this qualified. A wife, a child, a home that looked quite impressive and career as a lawyer, which was in a roundabout way as close to a honest profession as he could get. Ezra wandered down the halls, moving through this home that was supposed to be his, unable to deny that he had impeccable taste if it was indeed it was his pace of residence. It was the kind of abode he always dreamed of having, perfection in every domestic aspect of it, from the paintings on the wall to the sunny disposition of the rooms he passed.  
  
Making his way down the stairs, Ezra admired the marble finish of the floor he was descending and even more aware of the voices that were emanating from the rooms below. It was almost with caution that he stepped onto the main floor of the house, letting his gaze sweep across the front hall and the adjoining parlour. As he continued his journey to the dining room, he paused at a table with a number of silver framed pictures on it. It was almost with fascination that he saw himself within those pictures, looking nothing like himself, gambler, scoundrel or con man. Instead, the man Annabelle knew as her husband was surprisingly conservative, resembling the very picture of respectability.  
  
The picture revealed Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Standish on their wedding day. Annabelle seemed ethereal in her wedding gown while the Ezra in the picture seemed similarly happy.  
  
"Papa!" A little girl with dark blond hair bounded out of the adjoining room and ran straight into him, wrapping her arms around him.  
  
The only thing Ezra could say was a muted hello.  
  
If the child noticed his discomfiture, she did not make mention of it. Instead, she launched into a lengthy diatribe regarding what she wanted to do today, that someone named Davey had thrown up all over himself and when could she come with him to work because she could help him in the office. Ezra hardly heard a word she said because he was too busy trying to keep himself from hyperventilating at the idea that he had a child and one who had the same hair as Maude and stared at him in total adoration with his own eyes. Looking at her though, Ezra knew without a doubt that she was his because there was almost nothing of Annabelle in her face and everything of him.  
  
"Olive's made you breakfast papa!" She exclaimed, taking his hand and towing towards the dining room. Ezra was too fascinated by the child to stop her from puling him along as they made progress to the next room.  
  
The dining room was like the rest of the house, a picture perfect depiction of what his dream home would be like. Inviting aromas of toast and hot coffee filtered through the air as Elizabeth tugged him to the head of the table.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Standish." Olive, a portly Creole greeted as she continued to feed the baby in its high chair next to the table. The child had some purplish substance smeared over much of his face and gurgled in amusement each time Olive tried unsuccessfully to induce him to eat. "He's a little testy today." She frowned at the child. "He just doesn't like his fruit."  
  
"Who does?" Ezra mused as he sat down, wishing the coffee in front of him was anything but that. At the moment, the only thing that would soothe the gambler's frantic state of mind was a stiff drink. The respectable lawyer and family man Ezra Standish probably did not engage in such behaviour so the gambler that he was would just have to tolerate the steaming cup of coffee laid before him.  
  
Elizabeth took her place next to him while the child, no his son, Ezra reminded himself and had to pause at the notion. He leaned closer and looked at the happy face smiling at Olive's attempts to feed it.  
  
Despite himself, even Ezra's jaded self was somewhat touched by the simplistic joy in the child's face as his blue eyes twinkled with familiarity Ezra knew so well. His son looked very much like Maude and Ezra felt a sudden surge of interest in wanting to know where his mother was placed in this supposedly idyllic and impossible reality he had stumbled into. Ezra was still unprepared to believe that this was anything more than just the dream it had to be, just as he had yet to decide whether or not it was a good or a bad one.  
  
If this was not a dream, despite every instinct that told him that at this moment, he was not in any dreamscape but a world as real and tangible as any he had walked through, was he meant to stay in this life? He could not even imagine himself being father to these children, even though the smile that Elizabeth flashed him whenever she looked up long enough from her breakfast was very inviting. Through all this, Ezra had not even thought of Julia and he felt guilty of that since any future that even remotely resembled this would have to involve her. Where was she while he was living this perfect existence?  
  
The truth was, even if he wanted to find her, Ezra knew that he would have a difficult time of it. Julia had come to Four Corners under false pretenses, the reason for which he could not prise from her no matter how close they were. He understood that there would always be a part of her that he could not breach, a secret place where she kept things that were too private even for him to know.  
  
He knew that her name was not Pemberton and she did not come from Pennsylvania. All he knew was that she had fled wherever she did come from and would not wish to be found, if she even knew who he was.  
  
Somehow, Ezra had to find her.  


* * *

_**JULIA** _

 

Where Julia Pemberton happened to be at this moment, could quite literally be described as a personal hell.  
  
It was somewhat ironic when one thought of how she had wished for this for so long. However, thinking something and actually have it in possession were two different things altogether and at this moment, that point had never been driven home more acutely. How she had come to be here, Julia had no idea but the fact of it was, she was here and no matter how many times she may remind herself that this was a terrible nightmare, sent to torment her for past sins, she knew that it was tragically real.  
  
Julia was at a funeral.  
  
She was dressed in black, in clothes she did not recognize, sitting on the front row of seat in the cemetery near the church she had visited so many times in her youth, bored out of her mind while some sermonizing moron told the congregation how they ought to live. She sat there alone, well not exactly alone even though she might as well be, surrounded by relatives who had no more feeling for her than she had for them. At first, she had merely gaped at them, wondering how she had come to be in her present circumstances and after finally deducing that this was no dream and that she was where she was, remembered why she disliked them so.  
  
All stared at her with open resentment, dislike oozing out of every orifice in their body as if it were something that could be seen, like a mist drifting through the air. Clad in black, they seemed as if they were sitting in judgement of her but in truth, Julia knew now and always did that they craved everything that she was. The rest of the chairs were taken up by people she also knew from her past in Philadelphia, all of which from the select circle of highborn elite that dominate the society pages. She was born into their ilk even though from the moment she had learnt to tell the difference, Julia had abhorred everything that they were.  
  
The minister droned his words, also the pastor whom had been present for her christening, so she was told, speaking in depth of a man none of them knew better than Julia herself. She had thought that after the circumstances that had forced her to flee her home in the dead of night, his power to touch her heart would have little or no effect. However, knowing that he was dead and gone, had coaxed a well of sorrow to spring forth from nowhere to grip her soul with unbelievable anguish. Sitting here by herself, Julia wanted to weep but she was too proud to let any of her family see that she was in pain. Julia had never been able to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry, not even when she was a child and was suffering from a skinned knee.  
  
More than anything, she wished Ezra was here because only Ezra could offer her the solace that she needed to feel something close to feeling better. She knew she was sure as hell not going to get any sympathy from the cretins who had despised her all her life. Julia knew that much of their hostility came from her father's attention to her. She had been the only child of a woman he had never stopped loving until the day he died. When she was old enough to tell the difference, Julia had wondered whether that was the only reason that her father had loved her so much, because she was a reminder. It was half the reason why she had been driven to find love and devotion from men who wanted her for herself, not because she was the living memory of someone else.  
  
In her wanton affection with her numerous lovers, they had all craved her flesh but at least it was her flesh they wanted, not her mother's. Her relatives, be they uncles and aunts or cousins, had despised her for her freedom, knowing that with a slight pout of her lips or a whispered promise, she could charm any man that came into her sights. The ones she actively set out to acquire, never had a chance of resistance. Her father had probably heard the stories but he had never spoken a word to her about it. He had loved her unconditionally, probably ignoring everything that was ever said because she was his Julia.  
  
Despite herself, Julia felt the tears that had been content to glisten in her eyes rolled down her cheek as the pastor ended his sermon and the mourners began filing towards the coffin, preparing to make their final farewell to the person lying within its polished wood confines. Julia ignored the family, seeing no wish to join them. She would make her own good byes to her father as she grappled with why she was forced to endure this dream, even though it had every substance of being something that was mired in reality not the imagination of her night's slumber. Of course, if this was real then Julia had to admit to being unsurprised by the fact that her father might have passed on following her abrupt departure from his life.  
  
She had been so angry when she had chosen to leave home. All her life she had wanted to determine her own fate and when he had arranged the marriage that would see her the wife of Roderick Packard, it was more than she could stand. She felt betrayed that he could do such a thing to her, marry her off to someone she could barely stomach, let alone conceive of marrying, to play breeding cow in his golden stable. How could papa not see why she had hated it so much?  
  
Because she never told him.  
  
Following her arrival in Four Corners, much of Julia's life had changed. She had been given freedom on a scale that was totally alien to her. Not only was she free to determine her own fate, she had been allowed the chance to be the person she always wanted to be, without having to worry about what convention dictated.  
  
Julia had learnt a whole new way of existing that did not require her to be beautiful or to seduce men to get what she wanted. She had met a man who knew more about the con than she ever would and saw right through her and hardly care that she was scheming wanton with an ego the size of the Grand Canyon, which more or less matched his own. Julia loved Ezra and she did know where he was in this reality, but she had to find him.  
  
Julia remained where she was seated, until the service was over and the mourners had departed, making their way back to the house where no doubt a wake was being held for the passing of her father. Only then, did she rise from her seat and walk slowly towards the coffin, surrounded by flowers and wreaths. Julia could not see inside the coffin and it was just as well, she did not think she could stand seeing Donald Avery dead. Although her anger at him had not withered away, she still loved him and she missed him. There were many times when she was in Four Corners, that Julia had contemplated writing him a note to tell her that she was safe at least, because she knew that silence would be more painful to him than knowing that she no longer wanted anything to do with him.  
  
She paused in front of the wooden coffin of polished wood and wiped the tears from her eyes, before she ran her fingers along its smooth surface as if this was as good as she could get to touching him herself. The wood was cold as it was winter in Philadelphia and the snow was not far from falling down on this cemetery with its pristine lawns and well tended grave stones.  
  
"I'm sorry papa," Julia found herself saying because she should have told him this before she had left or before he had died. In either case, she was doing it now. "I should have told you about how I really felt. I should have told you that I didn't want to marry him. Maybe we could have worked something out instead of me running away like some spoilt child."  
  
She paused, feeling another wave of emotion choking the voice out of her throat for a moment. "I was angry and I was foolish and you know me, I run when I should think. I said I hated you papa, I don't. I never did. I just hate what you did." She whispered.  
  
"Miss Avery." A voice called out behind her.  
  
Julia jumped with surprise as the sudden eruption of sound startled her to no end. Turning around, she found herself facing the man that had caused all this trouble. Roderick Packard was standing before him in all his coarse glory, trying to look sympathetic when all she could see was his blatant lust for her.  
  
It made her skin crawl.  
  
"Roderick Packard." Julia whispered.  
  
"You have heard of me," he smiled, pulling his lips back in a smile. "I knew your father."  
  
"I know." Julia responded, wondering how much worse this nightmare was going to get. Was it not bad enough that she was forced to witness her father's demise. Did she have to endure this too?  
  
"With your father's passing, you seem to have come into a great deal of money," Packard continued, unaware that everything he said made her wanted to run for her life because she absolutely despised him near her. "Before his demise, he spoke to me at length about how you might manage it, if he should become ill."  
  
"I see." Julia replied, wondering where this was going.  
  
"You are aware that you have inherited his entire estate, do you not?"  
  
Julia blinked. She knew that he had a great deal of money and that it should be rightfully hers, instead of falling under the control of the man she would marry. Julia had never concerned herself with how much that actually was. "I know papa was wealthy and that he left me a trust." She lied because she had no wish to discuss such things with Packard.  
  
"Madam," Packard said with genuine surprise. "Your father was a little more than wealthy, he has died leaving you in excess 2 million dollars."  


* * *

_**BUCK** _

 

Unlike the rest of his friends, Buck Wilmington had awoken the next morning finding nothing unusual about his world or his perception of it. As always, he rarely found himself alone when he woke most mornings, usually having company in the sheets of a bed that was not in the residence of his room at the lodging house. Whoever she might be, Buck would usually make an encore performance and of course tell her that she had stolen his heart and undoubtedly he would be back for more at a later date. Whether or not she was wise to this well practiced verse was never known and Buck would come away from the encounter feeling quite satisfied at himself at another challenged met and hurdled.  
  
Of course it was not always that way for him. There were disappointments. No man could be truly irresistible all the time and there were moments where his animal magnetism simply failed for some unfathomable reason. On those occasions, Buck took a philosophical slant on things, accepting that even he had to know the sting of rejection or else he would tire quickly of his immeasurable success.  
  
Still despite himself, he had to admit feeling some chagrin at his most recent failure. Actually it could hardly be considered a failure since he actually bedded the woman but her reaction the following morning could hardly be deemed a success either.  
  
Buck Wilmington did not know how to perceive his relationship with Inez Rosillios these days. He loved her and considered her to be the only female he would consider settling down with but for some reason that was completely at a loss for him to understand or explain, she wanted nothing to do with him. Lately, she had become so irritable whenever he was around, Buck was glad he was armed whenever he walked into the saloon and no matter what he said to her, nothing could assuage her anger at him.  
  
On this particular morning, Buck had left the bedroom of his latest dalliance, a young lady named Judith Winton and headed for the Standish Tavern for a spot of breakfast that is if Inez decided not to have his guts for garters yet again.  
  
Despite the tension between himself and the sultry barmaid and manager, Buck was determined not to give up on her. Well he could not really, he was in love with the woman, just as he knew without doubt or complicity that she was in love with him. Pride was all that stood in their way although in Buck's case he knew that his libido had quite a bit to do with it as well.  
  
As he made his way down the street, he noticed a number of heads turning in his direction. Women were throwing him faint smiles, their eyes meeting his with come hither looks that made Buck wonder if his animal magnetism was putting in some extra effort today. The men remain unaware of any strange goings on, even though some of the women offering these suggestive gazes at Buck were their wives, sisters or sweethearts. Buck shrugged off the attention, his ego big was enough to become accustomed to this sort of attention.  
  
Entering the saloon, he found that it was mostly deserted at this time of the morning, except for the few friends who like himself, was partial to Inez's excellent culinary skills. Vin, Ezra and J.D. were both dining on a meal of sausages and eggs. The aroma of the food wafted through the air and almost carried Buck the rest of the way inside the saloon. His stomach rumbled in response and Buck hoped Inez had more of what was on those plates left, although the way she felt about him these days, it was likely that she might hurl it in his face rather than serve it to him.  
  
He wished she would just tell him what was wrong so that they could at least talk about it. He knew that part of her resistance to settling down with him had to do with his excessive philandering ways. Still, didn't she know those other women meant nothing to him? A few months ago, he had been ready to settle down with her, to court her properly. Hell, he had even made up a speech about how good they would be together if she could only trust him. Unfortunately, Inez had not yielded even though she did assure him that he needed more time and she was willing to wait for him until he was ready to settle down. At the time, Buck had been relieved, considering himself most fortunate that he had evaded capture by a woman while at the same time, having the only one he cared about informing him that she was willing to wait.  
  
Later on however, he wondered if things had really turned out so favorably for Buck, as he believed. Sure she would wait. Yet that could also mean that if someone one like Jeremy Seacourt appeared out of the woodwork, she could be lost to him because a rival had slipped past him and reached her first, a rival who was not afraid to commit or to be faithful to her. On the nights when he was not in the company of a lady, that was enough to keep Buck awake.  
  
"Morning all," Buck sat down at the table shared by the others and looked around for Inez, whose presence could be heard by the sounds coming from the kitchen. He could smell the inviting aroma of hot food coming from the room and felt another pang of hunger.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Wilmington, I trust you slept well." Ezra greeted politely as ever.  
  
"If at all." J.D. quipped. "How did your big night go?" The young man asked before taking a mouthful of food. J.D. was perfectly aware form Buck's typical boasting the night before that he had a pre-arranged rendezvous with the fair Miss Winton.  
  
"The lady was duly impressed," he grinned as he pulled up a chair and sat at their table. "As always." He added after a moment's pause.  
  
Both Vin and Ezra rolled their eyes in a mixture of disgust and worn resignation. The bragging was just another part of the morning after ritual performed by Buck Wilmington following a heated evening with a young woman who had no idea that as she was now conquered, would soon be discarded. It was still the source of amazement to the two that some irate father had yet to march their very own Casanova to the altar at gunpoint with the number of women that Buck seemed to bed. Four Corners was not that big a town and yet Buck had managed to cut a swathe though all of them. At the rate Buck was going, he was either going to have to start recycling his past loves or move to another town.  
  
"Spare me the details, Mr. Wilmington. I am trying to finish my repast with something of an appetite." Ezra retorted and picked up his cup of coffee and savoured a nice long taste of the beverage.  
  
"You're just jealous." Buck laughed, unrepentant about anything. "Now that you're an attached man."  
  
"Nothing wrong with being beholding to one woman." Vin replied, more than happy about the relationship he had with Alex.  
  
"Not for me." Buck said showing no signs of envy about the happiness that both Ezra and Vin shared with the women in their lives, even though he did feel a slight twinge of it.  
  
Suddenly, Inez appeared from the kitchen and met his gaze. Buck braced himself to get yelled at or worse. However, instead of giving that cold look of contempt that had been her trademark whenever her was in the room, proceeded by a violent outburst where something was thrown at him, Inez gave him a little smile. "Hello Buck." She greeted politely.  
  
Buck almost leapt to his feet upon hearing the warmth in her voice when she spoke, feeling as if he were a dog that had just been thrown scraps. It was to his utter chagrin how this woman could make him feel like a teenager again with a simple smile. Still, she was being nice to him, which had to be an improvement from the present state of their relationship, which bordered on open warfare in its intensity.  
  
"Hi Inez." He said trying to hide the surprise from his voice.  
  
"Buck, may I see you in the kitchen a moment?" She threw that smile at him again and this time it oozed so much innocence, he just knew that she was ready to talk to him again. Perhaps now, he could get to the bottom of what was wrong with her.  
  
"Sure." He answered, frowning a little at the expression being worn by Ezra, Vin and J.D.  
  
They were grinning at him, content with the knowledge that he was just as susceptible to the beck and call of one female as the rest of them. All three knew that Buck's Achilles heel was the sultry Mexican barmaid who could have him running after her like some wet behind the ears kid. Inez had always been the one woman who had no illusions as to what Buck was and no amount of charm could change her perception of him. In the beginning, Buck had told them all that he would conquer Inez if it were the last thing he did. Every member of the seven knew, although they did not voice it at the time, just who it was that really got conquered.  
  
For it was not Inez.  
  
Inez slipped back into the privacy of the kitchen, assuming he would follower her. Buck knew there was never any question of that not happening. He utterly adored the woman and any chance of mending the fences between them both was an opportunity he was not about to squander. Turning back to his companions, he noted their restrained sniggers and blatant smirking at his situation and glared at them with narrowed eyes.  
  
"Shut up." Buck hissed quietly as he left them and went to join Inez in the kitchen.  
  
He decided he did not care what the others thought as he strode in eagerly after her. He knew that Inez was afraid of what they had done the night of Chris' bachelor party. Even though every memory of it was imprinted on his mind and revisited several times daily, Buck had come to realize that for her it was a step she had taken too early and was running scared of the consequences. Her reaction to him the next day was proof enough of that. If she would just hear him out, Buck could explain to Inez that he was willing to wait for as long as it took her to acclimatize herself to the idea that they had crossed a pivotal line in their relationship.  
  
However, no sooner than he had had walked through the doors of the kitchen, did he suddenly feel her arms around his neck. There was a moment of clarity where he realized that this was not a gesture of attack before she pulled him forward to meet his lips in a kiss of passion. Buck was so astonished by this sudden show of affection, again; he could do nothing but stand there as her mouth devoured his. He felt her tongue probing past his teeth, forcing its way in really before inflicting upon him a kiss of fiery intensity and passion. Buck could only think one thing as his mind started to register what was happening as a good thing.  
  
Damn does she blow hot and cold!  
  
Still what was happening did require explanation no matter how pleasant it was and Buck did not want to find himself in the same position as he did the night after they had first made love. Inez had always been more to him than just a night's fancy. He loved her and he needed to understand what was happening between them yet again. He tried to stop her; not an easy thing to do considering that her kisses tended to make him weak in the knees. He felt one hand running through his hair and another pulling at the buttons on his shirt and knew that if he wanted to talk, the time to do it was NOW.  
  
"Inez," he wrenched himself free from her, stilly dizzy from her kisses and the taste of her in his mouth. "What's going on?"  
  
She looked at him with nothing but sheer lust in her eyes and did not answer immediately. Instead she pulled him to her and covered his face in soft kisses.  
  
"What. .do. .you. .want .to .happen?" She whispered, speaking each word through an interval of a kiss.  
  
God, he was weakening. "Inez!" He pushed her away again. "You've been madder than hell at me for the past few weeks, now you're coming on strong and don't get me wrong here, I like it. Hell I like a lot but I ain't going down this road with you again and find out it means nothing the next morning."  
  
"Come on Buck," she moved back towards him, snaking around her arms around his neck as she started kissing the skin exposed under his unbuttoned shirt. "You know I love you." She said huskily, her lips were working his way down his chest.  
  
Buck pulled her up before she got any further because as much as he wanted her and he wanted her a great deal, he needed to understand what was happening here.  
  
"As much as I want to get down to this, I want to know what's changed between us. One minute, you don't want nothing to do with me and then you're all over me."  
  
Inez paused and her lips curled into a little smile. "Well," she said almost coquettishly as she stepped back from him, a great deal more restrained even though the desire in her eyes was still apparent. "I suppose I should tell you. I've been keeping it a secret because I was not sure what I wanted to do about this. Then I woke up this morning and everything was clear to me, you are the one that I want Buck, I have always wanted you. Since the first moment I saw you but I was too proud and too stubborn to admit it. I did not want to end up like the others but now I cannot deny anything, so I chose to face up to what I feel for you. I love you Buck Wilmington. I love you and I want to be with you. I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me. I don't have time for patience any more, I don't have time for anything, so I come to you because I know you feel the same way."  
  
"Alright," he started to smile, liking what he had heard. "I'm glad you know that because I do love you too and I do want you." He said taking a step towards her. He placed his arms on her shoulders and delighted at the silkiness of her skin. They slid into each other's arms and it felt so right that Buck wondered how he could have ever endured being without her.  
  
"By the way," he asked, as he felt her lips resuming their assault against his neck. "What was the big secret?"  
  
"Nothing of consequence," she mumbled, completely uninterested in what he was asking and more concerned with laving his neck with her wet and seductive tongue. "I'm just a little pregnant."

* * *

_**JD**_  
  
  
J.D. Dunne found nothing unusual when he walked down the street of Four Corners that morning. Everything was it always was in the town at this time of day, businesses were only an hour or two into trading and the peak shopping period had yet to take place. There were not many people in the street, although the concentration would grow as the day progressed. J.D. liked taking a stroll down the boardwalk during this time. It was quiet and the day ahead held the promise of what could be. Even though the air felt brisk with winter chill, he liked how it felt when he drew breath for the cold invigorated him like nothing did. It kept him poised and alert, ready for trouble and whatever adventure that came riding into town.  
  
As he made his progress across town, a journey that would eventually culminate in his arrival at the jailhouse, the few people who were on the street, greeted him as he walked by, sometimes offering him the respect deserving of the badge he wore and sometimes not. However, the greetings were always friendly and J.D. decided he liked the friendly more than the respect. Once upon a time, it would have meant the world to him to be shown respect by anyone who came across him and he sought it out like a prize to be won instead of a life-defining trait of survival. The men who had taken him under their wing and made it possible for him to see out his first week in the West without ending up in a pine box had taught him a great deal about respect.  
  
J.D. loved nothing more than being counted in the number of the seven because these were all men that he respected and who had earned his high favour with such effortless ability. Sometimes, he felt like a raw interloper amongst them.  
  
He had come from the east searching dreams of glory and thanks to them, he had not gotten his head blown off in the first hour. Each and every one of them looked out for him and that was quite something for a young man who had no one in the world who would care if he died, to know. From the awesome manner of Chris Larabee who walked through town with such imposing presence, it was impossible not to feel somewhat awed or intimidated, depending on whether or not you were an enemy. He knew he idolized Chris somewhat and felt embarrassed when others noticed it but there were times J.D. wanted to be so much like Chris that it often slipped his mind what the gunslinger had been forced to endure to become what he was.  
  
However, if he idolized Chris then he considered Buck Wilmington something else entirely. Although theirs was an odd relationship, with Buck sometimes taking on a role that was more than just based on friendship but almost bordered on paternal affection. J.D. did not remember his father and he often wished he had brothers but if he had known either, J.D. liked to think they would have been like Buck. Buck looked out for him and kept him safe. While J.D. used to hate that in the beginning, assuming it was because Buck did not think he was good enough, the young man eventually realized that Buck was just trying to keep him alive, allowing him time to learn the lessons that would help him become his own man.  
  
J.D. appreciated all their efforts and he had learnt a lot in the two years that he had spent in Four Corners. When he had left the city, he was part driven by his grandiose dreams of fame as well as the loneliness that followed the death of his mother. She had given him everything in life and when her own ended, J.D. realized just terrible it was to be without her. He had tried to stick it out in the small crack in the wall that use to be their home until the overpowering silence became too much for him and he had to get out and find something else. Selling the place and everything in it had paid for his ticket out west, his saddle and left him enough travelling money for the journey ahead.  
  
When J.D. had left the bustle of the East, he had hardly looked behind him.  
  
Upon arriving at the jailhouse, he found it to be empty. This was hardly surprising because Chris was seldom seen before noon now that he was married, while Buck was probably still in the bed of the latest in the seeming inexhaustible bevy of women whose company he kept. Buck would either crawl out of bed after noon or when the lady's husband returned, whichever came first.  
  
Ezra was most likely at the saloon, pretending to supervise Inez when everyone and his dog knew that it was Inez who really ran the place and Ezra was simply the front man. Still, J.D. thought the gambler was exceedingly good at appearing to be in charge and he did bring in high rollers that wanted to cross swords with his formidable gambling skills.  
  
Josiah was an early riser but the former preacher spent his mornings trying to restore his church. Although the project had taken the man almost two years now and did look marginally better than the collection of ruins it was initially, there was still a lot of work to be done and no one could begrudge him for doing it. Somehow, J.D. felt it was important that the church be put back together. It seemed like an important part of a community was missing when everyone could not get together and sing songs to God. While he was not religious, he did remember his mother often saying such things.  
  
If anyone appeared at the jailhouse to accompany him during the watch this morning, it would probably be either Vin Tanner or Nathan Jackson. If Nathan did not show then he probably had patients to deal with but Vin would definitely turn up. Although Nathan and Doctor Styles shared the duties regarding the physical health of all Four Corners' residents, sometimes, even that shared responsibility did not seem enough because there was so much to do. There was always someone breaking a leg, having a baby or getting a fever somewhere in town. J.D. was surprised that sometimes both healers were not running after patients 24 hours a day.  
  
Of all the seven, it was Vin that J.D. could most identify with because they were almost the same age. Well, okay, Vin was older and he seemed to know his way around things better than most people his age. However, when Vin spoke to J.D. it was never in an instructive sort of way. The tracker had the knack of letting people know things without sounding condescending, more like he was making a passing comment about the weather or something equally trivial not handing out advice that could save your life.  
  
As he waited for the others to make their eventual arrival, he started tidying up the office for something to do, feeling some measure of annoyance at the slovenly state of things. This mess had probably accumulated during Buck's shift, J.D. decided. There were only two things that Buck liked to do and none of them involved keeping the jailhouse tidy. As the one appointed to wear the Silver Star on his breast, J.D. took his duties as sheriff very seriously, even though in truth it was Chris who ought to be wearing the badge instead of him. Still, Chris had never confessed any desire for such a thing and J.D. was smart enough to adhere to Chris' judgement in all things.  
  
Once the office was returned to a somewhat tolerable state, J.D. parked himself in the chair and rummaged through the folded up wanted posted that had come through the mail. There was no one really dangerous out there at the moment, just a couple of horse thieves and a list of dates of when the judge would be in town to hold court sessions. J.D. put up the posters on the board and filed the rest away dutifully, knowing that none of the others would bother otherwise.  
  
The hours dragged on slowly and J.D. soon occupied his time by playing solitaire on his desk. Before he knew it, the sun was peaking in the sky and it was noon.  
J.D. reached into his coat to pull out a folded novel he had purchased to idle the time away when he came across something else entirely. Pulling out the chain, he found Buck's pocket watch attached to the end of it. For a moment, the young man could not at all fathom what he was doing with the object Buck Wilmington claimed to be a family heirloom. He searched his memory and knew that Buck had not given to him.  
  
Suddenly, J.D. felt the urge to go find the man.  
  
Leaving the office, he had no idea where to look but thought he might try the saloon. Ezra was always abreast of things, perhaps he would know with whom Buck had most likely spent the night. For some reason, there was this gnawing at the back of J.D.'s mind that was getting a great deal worse at the discovery of Buck's watch. As he walked down the street, the town had come alive with the frantic activity of the afternoon. People were out in force now, going about their business and carrying out their day to day errands.  
  
He saw Mary Travis, no; he quickly corrected himself, Mary Larabee, further up the street and hastened his pace to catch up with the woman. She was walking to her back facing him, unaware that he was behind her when J.D. called out. "Mrs. Larabee!"  
  
Mary paused and looked over her shoulder at whomever had called her name. Her eyes searched the faces before her and then rested on his. When she met his gaze, her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned. The anger in her face was apparent and almost took J.D. back by the intensity of it. He had never seen Mary give him a look like that before. She reserved such cold glares for men who tried to harm Billy Travis and anyone who made mention of the fact that she was a woman when trying to get the best of her. He wondered whether or not he ought to approach her in light of the storm cloud that was on her face now. Unfortunately, it was too late to avoid it since he had shouted her name across the street and she had seen him.  
  
He advanced almost cautiously and found himself stopping a suitable distance from her. For some reason, he could feel the rage emanating from her life a tangible force he could see and touch. "Mrs. Larabee.." he started to speak.  
  
"What do you want?" She demanded, her voice was sharp with barely concealed rage.  
  
J.D. was mystified by her hostility and could not understand why she was so upset at him. "Ma'am, are you mad at me or something?"  
  
"Mad at you?" She hissed and without saying anything further struck him across the jaw. She almost flattened him with the delivery of the blow and J.D. wondered how a willowy blond could possess so much strength. J.D. staggered backwards but remained on his feet.  
  
"Mrs. Larabee?" J.D. exclaimed holding his jaw, completely astonished as he stared at her. "What did you do that for?"  
  
"You murder my husband and have the audacity to ask me if I'm mad at you, to say nothing of the fact that you're even speaking to me!" She roared.  
  
Murder her husband? Murder Chris? "Me?" J.D. stammered. "I didn't do anything to Chris!"  
  
"Of course not!" She screamed at him, her anger starting to give way for grief. "You did it the way it's always done in the west, the way one man can kill another and get away with it! You didn't give him much choice but to call you out after what you did."  
  
This was too much for J.D. Had the entire world gone insane? People were looking at the commotion that he and Mary was causing, saying nothing to refute the words that she was saying. He did not kill Chris! Chris was still alive! Why did Mary think that he was not? "What I did?" He retorted. "I didn't do anything!" He tried desperately to convince her but Mary was crying openly now, tears running down her pink cheeks.  
  
"After what you did to Vin, you knew that Chris was going to come after you! You turned his best friend in for five hundred pieces of silver, let him hang for a crime he did not even commit and you expected Chris to do nothing less than what he did?"  
  
This was a nightmare. That was the only explanation that J.D. could wrap his mind around. He was going to wake up from this and find out that it was a terrible dream. However, as he stared in the blue grey eyes that usually held so much warmth, he could not imagine this to be a dream. The pain in her eyes was too powerful to be anything but real. She really did believe that he had killed Chris Larabee and worse of all, she thought him capable of turning Vin Tanner over to the authorities in Tuscosa for the $500 reward. How could she believe that of him?  
  
"I swear to you," he persisted. "I didn't do anything to Chris!"  
  
"Stay away from me!" She exploded in outrage, unable to believe that he was saying this to her when the entire town knew the whole ugly truth. He had stood in the street and gunned her husband down in a gunfight, in front of his wife and stepson all because he wanted to be the best there was. She never forgot the look of sorrow in Chris' face as he died, knowing that he was powerless to stop J.D.'s rampage or the fact that he would be the cause of her burying another husband.  
  
"Mrs. Larabee, please!" J.D. was starting to get frantic. He knew Mary could not be right about anything she was claiming because he had gone to bed last night, remembering his day with the same men she had accused him of killing. Yet as he looked at the eyes staring at him, regarding him not with friendly smiles but silent accusation, he started to realize that they believed it. If they believed it then he must be mad because he did not kill anyone, let alone Chris Larabee.  
  
"This ain't true! It can't be!" He shouted at her, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly, a thought came to him. "Ask Buck! Buck will tell you this ain't true!"  
  
"Buck's dead!" Mary declared, unable to decide what this little murderer was playing at with his innocence. "He killed himself because of you!"

* * *

_**NATHAN**_  


 

Nathan could only stare at the man.

His breath constricted in his chest with such overwhelming fear that for a moment, the healer thought the organ might explode. He stood there trembling; unable to fathom how this could be and knew from every detail of what he was seeing this before him was no fantasy. It was real. In the dreams, he could never smell the familiar scent of cotton in the air, or the stench that reeked from the slave quarters being so close to the outhouses provided for them. The place had always smelled like a nest and until now, Nathan had never realized just how much like animals that they were. The clarity of everything about him did not have the misty vagueness of the dream world. This however, he had come to be here was as real as his so-called life ever got.  
  
He saw Nicholas Serfonteine walking up and down the patio of the house where the family was having lunch in the distance and almost buckled down and retched there and then. The terror as he saw the master and he knew Serfonteine was still the master by the way the man strutted across the floor like he was invulnerable, was too much for Nathan to endure. Nicholas with his mother Clarissa and young sister Violet, sitting down to breakfast oblivious to the fact beyond the perfect gardens of their mansion, was misery on a scale no white man could ever conceived.  
  
Nathan knew that it was impossible that he was here again because his last memory was of falling asleep in his bed at the infirmary, thinking of all the things that he had to do the next day. He could remember the patients he had to see, the ailments that required healing, not to mention the studying he had to do that night for the accreditation exam he would soon have to sit for. All of that was fresh in his mind and further supported that this was some kind of a nightmare. Yet, he was here, almost fifteen years in the past from where he had been where his name was not Nathan Jackson but Ajax.  
  
The realization was enough to make his stomach turn again because enduring this the first time round had been agonizing enough in itself, let alone having to tolerate it all this again. He looked around the collection of ramshackle structures, aware that these squalid hovels were what passed for the living quarters of Avalon's human livestock. Other slaves were going about their business, scattering to perform the duties for the master, believing that this life of servitude and bondage was the best that they could ever dream of. The overseers too were never far away. Even as he stood watching the house, he could see them on the edge of his perception, lingering close enough to keep an eye on all of them.  
  
Serfonteine was oblivious to Nathan, as the plantation owner sat at his table with its silver cutlery and enjoyed the morning meal with his mother and sisters. Nathan supposed the man would have little notice for just another slave in his stable, even if occasionally Nathan was granted the proud work of being his fencing partner. There was no reason to suspect that in a number of years from now, Ajax would become a healer and take his head in a duel to the death. Nathan decided he better keep that information to himself for the moment. He had no doubt that he was here, out of time and place. Nathan did not know why this had happened but the good Lord seldom saw fit to let anything happen that did not have a purpose. Just because he did not feel incline to tell Nathan what that plan might be, did not mean it was any less important or could be questioned.  
  
Nathan did not know how long he was standing there when he felt the sharp pain of a baton striking the back of his legs with such force; it drove him to his knees. Nathan fell forward, uttering a small cry of pain as he landed on the grainy soil of the ground beneath him. He stop himself from falling flat on his face by landing on his hands. The pain was intense but left no lasting damage and Nathan pushed away the urge to defend himself because that much of Nathan's life here remained in memory.  
  
"Get a move on, Ajax!" The foreman, a pig of man named Elijah Masterson stood over him, daring him to fight because men like him, derived pleasure from torture and sadistic brutality. They were the perfect overseers because they could indulge their sick desires on defenseless people who had fewer rights than an animal. Nathan remembered the lessons of this past well enough to know that if he retaliated, Masterson would have him beaten or killed. In this place, he was a nigger slave and a white man's property.  
  
Nathan's hands crumpled into fists as he controlled his rage. Forcing the anger away into a singular place where it would cause himself no more harm, Nathan slowly got to his feet, ignoring the pain that would subside soon enough. He met Masterson's gaze and dropped his head, in the humiliating gesture of subservience that he had done all his life until the age of seventeen when forces beyond his control had made his gamble on a desperate bid for freedom.  
  
"Yes Sir," he said uttering the words and felt the bile surface in his throat.  
  
"Master wants you to go with Zeus into town." Masterson retorted, slightly disappointed that the young man had not put up a fight. He did not like the slave known as Ajax for some reason, even though the master favoured the boy for his ability to be of some sport when Serfonteine needed the fencing practice.  
  
Masterson had seen others like Ajax in the past, uppity niggers who forgot their place and had to be reminded with painful and life long lessons. Masterson longed to teach Ajax one of those lessons because the backbone of his pride had to be broken now, or he would troublesome forever.  
  
Ajax was always too smart because he did not look at Masterson like he was a slave, lower that dog piss in the scheme of things. He looked at the overseer like he was a man and that was something Masterson could not endure, no matter what. Still Ajax was wise enough not to get out of place and so Masterson was powerless to act for he was young and a prime piece of horse flesh that the master would not endure wasting unless for a very good reason.  
  
"Yes Sir," Nathan nodded and tried to remember which direction to go towards the stable, where Zeus was no doubt waiting for him while he saddled the horses and wagon. He started walking nevertheless, remembering how Masterson had felt about him back then. The man always tried to provoke him into doing something stupid and Nathan had always held back, just to rob him of the pleasure. Until of course the night Rebecca died and then Masterson had his wish when Nathan was strung up and whipped.  
  
As he drew away from the slave quarters, he stepped from a dismal world of shanties to the glamour of well kept gardens and a white polished marble where people could dine while watching their slaves get whipped to death, he thought ruefully. The walk gave Nathan time to think about what was happening to him. He knew that this was some parody of reality because there was too much detail for it to be a dream. There were trees where he remembered it, cracks in the foundation of the house that he not noticed before but did now all told him that this place was tangible and it existed as something with as much substance as his life in Four Corners. Nathan did not know this had come to pass and frankly, he did not care about the specifics, he was more concerned how he would survive this nightmare again.  
  
He examined his hands and saw it devoid of scars that had been acquired since the years he had left this place. His hands were always working hands as only a slave's could be but without even seeing himself in the mirror, Nathan knew that he was seventeen years old again. He considered his options at the possibility of having to live his life over again, altering key events so that things would transpire smoothly. No, he did not like that idea. Besides, there was nothing really he wanted to change about the way things happened. The same tragedies and grief would be felt no matter how much alteration could be done. Besides, there was something strangely sacrilegious about changing the way things happened, no matter how much he might have wished it.  
  
"Nathan." A soft voice hissed as he came across the row of peach trees flanking the walk towards the stable.  
  
Nathan froze, knowing of only one person who would call him that in this place. He saw her through the leaves of the tree and felt his heart swell in utter joy at the one bright thing that had kept him going throughout his tenure as Nicholas Serfonteine's property. The healer skirted the edge of the trees and hurried to join the young girl that was waiting for him on the other side. She broke into that familiar smile of brilliance at the sight of him and was somewhat puzzled when Nathan picked her up and twirled her around at the sheer joy of seeing her.  
  
"Becky!" Nathan almost wept from the pleasure of holding his sister in her arms again. He had forgotten about her in all his ruminations about the place and scolded himself as the fool he was. How could he forgotten Rebecca?  
  
"Nathan?" She squealed. "What's the matter with you? Put me down!"  
  
Nathan set her down and could not get over the idea that she was here. He supposed that if he was indeed transported back through time somehow, he should have guessed that she would be here as well. After all, she was as much a part of his life during this time as Serfonteine and the plantation called Avalon. At the moment, however, Rebecca was looking at him quizzically, in the way that told him that she thought he was crazy. Rebecca who would never have the distinction of having a surname appeared as she did the last time he had saw her, beautiful and pristine. At the age of fourteen she was already a beauty and even in the plain cotton dress she wore, it was easy to see how much she could be desired by someone who was used to indulging every desire. Involuntarily, the image of the bruised and violated Rebecca surfaced in his mind long enough for Nathan to crush it out of existence. He would not think of her like that, not when she was still alive.  
  
"Nothing," Nathan said feeling the emotion rise out of his heart at the sight of her, unable to deny just how good it felt to see her again. He embraced her again, much to her consternation before parting from her. "I'm just happy to see you, that's all." He smiled.  
  
"You only saw me this morning." She pointed out, still somewhat confused by his behaviour. "Anyway, I heard you was going to town with Zeus."  
  
"Masterson said I had to go," he answered, wondering how come it could be so easy to have a conversation with her as if the past fifteen years had never been. It was with sadness that he realized that it was fifteen years she had not known. It struck him just how much like Alexandra Styles she resembled, particularly now that he had seen Rebecca again and could make the comparison. No wonder, he had become so attached to the lady doctor when he had first laid eyes on her. Even her manner was so much like his Becky's.  
  
"I'll see you tonight then," she replied. "The master wants me to work at the house today."  
  
A memory flared in his mind then. It was so powerful that it had the force of a physical entity. Ringing through his mind, screaming alarms in every dark corner, Nathan felt the same constriction of fear in his throat as he realized that everything that had so far transpired today was a recreation of a particular day in his life. From his being sent on an errand that would see him gone all day, to Becky telling him that she would be working in the main house again. Suddenly, he understood why he had been sent back to this particular day of all days. The irony of it was, he had always dreamed to be here and when it had come, Nathan had almost let it slipped past him without knowing how significant the day was.  
  
Tonight Nicholas Serfonteine would come to the slave quarters Nathan shared with Becky, while he was still away in town with Zeus and rape his fourteen year old sister, beating her so badly she would die in his arms, with her blood all over him. The image of her returned to him with such fierce intensity that Nathan could not speak for a moment as he tried to come to grips with what was to be done about it. He was here in the place he had dreamed of being all his life, with the foreknowledge of events to come that could save her. Nathan had always wondered what difference it would have made if he had just known what was in store for his sister when he left for town that day.  
  
"Becky," he looked around and made certain that no one was in sight, particularly Masterson who had a habit of watching him like a hawk. "Do you trust me?" He asked, holding her hands and staring into her brown eyes so that she would understand that he was absolutely serious.  
  
"You're my brother stupid," she chuckled, wondering why he was behaving so strangely. "Of course I trust you."  
  
"Good," he swallowed, knowing how forbidden it was to say what he was thinking at this moment but knew of no other way to make her understand. "We've got to escape."  
  
She stared at him as if he was mad and he could hardly fault her for coming to that conclusion. Escape was the most feared and anticipated word in the slave vocabulary. It could mean death or hope, it depended on the perspective.  
  
However, one thing it did hold common for all those who knew what it meant, was the extreme danger of even thinking such a thing, let alone speaking it out loud. "Nathan are you out of your head?" She hissed, horrified that they were even having this conversation. Her eyes looked about her, hoping no one else had heard what he had just said.  
  
"I know it's dangerous Becky," Nathan continued, his gaze also darting about furtively, seeking out anyone that might overhear them and kill this flight for freedom before it could even begin. "But we've got to go and we've got to now. Please don't ask me to explain. We have to leave this place."  
  
"And go where?" She demanded, unable to imagine the enormity of what he was saying. The dream of freedom was something far away, unattainable. Most of them dreamed of it but none dared to take the chance at trying to acquire it. As strong and resolved as she was, Rebecca was not sure she wanted to make the attempt herself. Failure would mean death or worse.  
  
Nathan thought quickly and it came to him with surprising ease. He had escaped once already so he knew it could be done. "We've got to get to Kentucky." He answered the words tumbling from his lips as if inspired by some hidden well of hope he never believed he had. His escape remained clear in his mind for most parts, except for the last day or so when he had been delirious with fever. He had kept going out of sheer determination, pushed on by a fervor that was almost as intense as this desire to see Rebecca saved. If he could get her out of the south, Josiah would help her and she would have the chance of a life, she would never have had if she remained here. "There's a preacher on his way through Kentucky, he'll be there in less than two days. We need to find him because he'll help us."  
  
"Help us to do what?" The disbelief was still apparent in her voice. She could not believe this was coming from her normally dependant brother whom had been incapable of making a rash decision since the day that he was born. She was the dreamer not him. Rebecca was used to such foolishness coming from her, when it was late at night and they both sat up and watched the star overhead. However, hearing it from Nathan was disconcerting.  
  
"Help us to get to the north." Nathan explained, not wishing to discuss this any further. "There's a war coming Becky and it will change everything we know but we can't be here when it arrives."  
  
"Nathan. ." She wanted to argue but he silenced her with a look.  
  
"Becky," he said softly and hoped she could understand how necessary this was. "We cannot be here tonight because the master is coming for you."  
  
Rebecca opened her mouth to ask how he knew that but decided she did not want to know. Suddenly, all those long searching looks the master threw in her direction whenever she was serving in the house return to her mind. She remembered the way his hand would brush against hers as she served him his meals, how his eyes would travel up and down her body like she were some piece of meat for the taking. She was not naive and she was aware that the Master often took slave lovers, sometimes willingly, most of the times no. However, if he came for her, there would be no choice for her to make, just obedience and inside, she knew she could not let him touch her. Slowly but surely, she began to understand what her brother was implying.  
  
"Alright Nathan," she nodded in complete understanding now. "What do we do?"

* * *

_**INEZ**_  
  
  
"Inez Recillos, are you going to spend all day in bed?" The shrill voice tore through her mind and made Inez sit up abruptly in her bed. She wondered who had interrupted the privacy of her bedroom and hoped they had better have a damn good reason for rousing her out of her sleep. Considering the night she had had, tossing and turning in the sheets as she tried to make the decisions that would affect the rest of her life, being woken up so abruptly was likely to get someone killed or worse.  
  
Inez rolled around in her bed, not quite awake as she turned to regard whomever was standing before her while at the same time, trying to remember where it was she kept that gun she had come to Four Corners with. Although the instances were rare, there were occasions when drunks who had lodgings in the saloon would stumble into her bedroom by mistake. Most were willing to leave without causing further inconvenience but some were a little more persistent and required her gun to make their departure.  
  
"Who are you and what are you doing in my room?" She rubbed her eyes as she turned to her visitor.  
  
"I am your mother and this is my house!" The woman grumbled staring at her, hands on her hips.  
  
Inez blinked and indeed found herself standing in front of her mother, Paloma Rosillios. Appearing as she did the last time that Inez had returned home her village, Paloma was a striking woman with high cheek bones and jet black hair that was always worn in a tight bun. She regarded Inez sternly, looking at her daughter in very much the same manner as she had done the day Inez and her sister Calla had sneaked out of the house one night when they were supposed to be in bed. Both girls had wanted to watch the party at the Don Paulo's house even though they were strictly forbidden not to.  
  
"Mama?" Inez exclaimed, never believing she could be so happy to see her mother, especially now. Without any hesitation, Inez jumped out of her bed and embraced her mother hard, without pausing to take a look at where she was or questioning how this miracle could have happened. She did not care; her mother was here at a time when Inez needed her guidance the most. Only Paloma could advise her now.  
  
"Mama, I'm so happy to see you." Inez gushed as she held onto the familiar warmth of the woman whose soothing words could make everything alright.  
  
"I suppose you think that this is going to make me forget that you are late to work at the Don's house." Paloma said with the same terseness to her voice, although there was warmth in her face as she spoke the words and she was returning the embrace.  
  
Inez pulled away and stared at her mother. "What are you talking about mama?" She asked and then suddenly took a close look at her surroundings to discover that she was not in her room above the Standish Tavern. In fact, she was nowhere at Four Corners at all. She was in her room at her home in her village. How could this be? Her mind started to cloud with bewilderment because she knew where this place was and she did not think she was dreaming but she was here and this was her mother before her.  
  
"Mama, I'm home aren't I?" She asked, her brow knotting in confusion as she took closer examination of things around her. Although the memory was almost two years behind her, the room in which she had grown up had not changed. It was never a lavish room but in it, Inez had grown from a girl into woman thanks to Paloma's assertions that a woman could do anything she wished, if she only put her mind to it. Her bed, the quilt she and Calla had made, even to the dolls whose painted faced was faded by time as was the faint pattern of the dress it wore.  
  
"Yes?" Paloma started to look at her with concern, wondering if her daughter was not suffering from some kind of fever that was leaving her mind in such an addled state. "Inez, are you feeling alright?"  
  
Inez did not answer and went to the window of her bedroom. Leaning outside, she saw the village below the hill where her house was situated and in the further distance was Don Paulo's mansion, just as she remembered it. She could see the people moving up and down the dirt streets, old men sitting on under the shade of some awnings, chattering excitedly about the goings on in town while further away from the main centre of the village, she could spy chicken being fed within their enclosure. A group of women were stripping the husks of corn, working their way through a large pile before placing the end product in a wicker basket. Inez knew what it was like to be hunched over doing that kind of work and the pile looked like several hours' work. Even further out of town, she could see the goats being kept in their own enclosures. The sights and smells of her village filtered into her mind and offered her comfort the way nothing had been able to do during the past few days.  
  
"I'm fine mama," Inez smiled, looking at her with tears glistening in her eyes. She was home even if she could not understand how she had come to be here or how long she would be able to remain with the present situation between herself and the senior Don Paulo for the death of his son. "I'm just very happy to be here."  
  
"You have not been anywhere else." Paloma stated.  
  
"Of course I have," Inez said confused. "I had to leave when I rejected Don Paulo's son." She reminded her mother.  
  
Paloma stared at her blankly, unable to fathom about what her daughter was trying to say. "Inez, you are making me worried. You know the Don's son is married to that nice girl from Ciudad Juarez a year ago. What is this nonsense you are talking about?"  
  
Inez looked at her mother with similar astonishment, unable to understand how this could be. She knew what had happened to her during the past two years as much as she remembered that she had been forced to flee her home after Paulo's son had tried to force her. Was it just her imagination, what she had been forced to endure in her flight? Inez knew that all that she had experienced following her departure from here was real.  
  
"Mama, I left two years ago." She replied. "I do not know how I came to be here but I do know that I was forced to go because of the Don's son."  
  
"Inez," Paloma came forward and embraced her child, as if will alone could drive away this dementia that had taken over the mind of her wilful daughter. "You have been nowhere in two years. You have continued to remain in this house and you still work at the Don's house. His son and his wife Maria live in the city now, he only comes back here during the holidays."  
  
If she had not gone anywhere and had been here all that time what about her memories of Four Corners. Her friendship with Mary Travis and Alexandra Styles? Her responsibilities to Ezra as the manager of his mother's business and his partner, to say nothing about the friendships she had made there with Vin and J.D. and last but not the least, Buck? Those memories were not fantasy. They were clearer to her than what she was seeing now and started to wonder if her present condition was responsible for bringing about this dream where her life had gone on without the turmoil of the junior Don Paulo's obsession of her. If it had not been for him, Inez would have most likely remained in the village with her family and would have probably have found some nice man with whom she could spend her life with. She would have been a farmer's wife and have endured nothing but a safe and honest existence. She would never have been in the situation she was now, unmarried and alone, with no man in her life. No man that she could trust with any degree of confidence. Yet, that had not changed the fact that she had still given herself to Buck in a night of passion that she did not regret but had not considered the ramifications of which until it was too late.  
  
However, if this before her was reality then what she remembered was also wiped clean. Is that not what she had wanted for the longest time? Particularly in the last few weeks, when she had made the discovery that had been unimaginable to even consider? She had prayed that a solution had come and for the longest time, while she was lost in the conundrum of indecision, believed that no hope existed for the sin she had committed. However, it appeared that her prayer to God had been fulfilled and he had sent his forgiveness in this reality where she had never known Buck Wilmington.  
  
Which meant she was no longer pregnant.  
  
Her hands flew instinctively to her abdomen, much to the growing apprehension of her mother who was starting to believe that she had gone quite mad. Inez tried to see if she could feel any signs of the baby that had caused so much turmoil in her life during the past six weeks. When she had first suspected that she might be with child, Inez had almost refused to believe it. She could not believe the unfairness of it all! She had abstained for so long, kept herself away from him and in one night, albeit one wonderful night, he had gotten her with child. If she was not so utterly horrified by the whole situation and the moral dilemma it would cause, she would have shot him.  
  
"Inez, I think you should get back into bed," Paloma said, ushering Inez back to her bed. "I don't think you are well."  
  
Unfortunately, Inez was in no position to disagree.  
  
"I'll send Calla to go to work in your place." Paloma replied as Inez slipped into the covers, trying to decide whether being she liked the idea that she was no longer with Buck Wilmington's child.  
  
At the time, all Inez could think about was how terrible it would be to have this baby and worse of all, having to tell Buck about it. He would insist upon marrying her and she really did not want that at this point. She had no wish for either herself or Buck be forced into marriage because of a child and yet she did not know how she could have it without a marriage. To have a child without a father would be difficult enough with the social implications that went with. Although to be truthful, she knew she could count on the support of friends like Mary and Alex, who would not judge her harshly. The town of Four Corners was another thing entirely and she had been terrified of what would happen when they found out, since hiding it seemed rather out of the question.  
  
"Now you rest Inez," Paloma urged as Inez lay her head back on her pillow, her hand stroking Inez's dark hair in a manner that always managed to put her to sleep as a child. "I will make some you some tea and you can clear your head."  
  
"I always loved how you do that mama," Inez smiled faintly as she met her mother's gaze and savoured her touch. "Was it hard for you mama?"  
  
"What is that my darling?" Paloma asked gently, continuing the soothing gesture over her hair.  
  
"Raising us alone after papa died?" Paloma had been sole provider for herself and her younger sister Calla ever since the death of their father when she was a child. It was hard for Inez not to become as strong willed as she was when Paloma Rosillios was the example by which she had to follow. Her mother had never made it look difficult, raising two children while at the same time, seeing no reason to be marry again.  
  
"It was hard Si," her mother nodded, struck by the question but seeing no reason not to answer. It was no strange a request as anything else Inez had asked of her today. "But the hardship has its own rewards. I miss your father so much," Paloma's own image of Inez's father was forever as the handsome officer in the centralist army of General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, who had swept her off her feet in his smart uniform. "I loved him very much and when he left us and moved beyond, I saw no reason to replace him when I had my two girls to share the love I would given to him. It was difficult but my reward was you and your sister and it is strange that when you are older and wiser, it comes to you that it is enough to be happy."  
  
Inez listened to her mother crooning an old folk song that she used to sing to Inez and Calla when they were children, particularly when they were sick or unable to sleep. As she felt her mind drift off, wondering if she would wake up and find herself back in her bed at the saloon, Inez honestly could not say if it was a blessing or a curse. She had wanted this for so long and now that it appeared that she had been granted a reprieve, she suddenly found herself hoping for reasons that had were still unclear to her that she wanted things the way they had been in Four Corners.  
  
She wanted her baby back.  


* * *

_**JOSIAH** _

 

What the hell was he doing here?  
  
Josiah flinched, knowing that was probably not the word he ought to use when he was standing in front of an entire congregation of churchgoers who were at the moment, staring at him, waiting in anticipation of his next spoken word. The paused expanded as Josiah looked around like a deer caught in someone's sights and discovered that he was standing at the pulpit, wearing the robes of a preacher giving Sunday. Then again, hell might not be far wrong as a description for his present situation. He stared at back at the congregation, tongue tied and unable to form an articulate word and glanced at the book before him, hoping that he had written down notes for the direction of the sermon or for that matter what it was about in the first place.  
  
Unfortunately, God was not on his side today.  
  
Before him, there was only a copy of the Bible with no clues leading to what he had been talking about. Josiah swallowed; painfully aware of the slight rumble of voices that was moving through the congregation as they worked out what was wrong with the preacher. Adjusting his collar, which felt just as stiff and uncomfortable as Josiah had remembered the things to be, succeeded in killing a few seconds but did little more than that. He knew he had to say something because the faces staring back at him had shifted from confused to irritation.  
  
"Father," a voice spoke behind him and almost made Josiah reach for the sky for the sheer fright of it. It did not help that he was so filled with anxiety, his nerves were like a Mexican jumping bean.  
  
Josiah found a young priest looking at him in concern, with short red hair and equally pale skin. "Yes?" He tried to sound as if nothing was wrong but could not quite manage to inject that much persuasion into his voice.  
  
"Father Sanchez, is there something wrong?" The young priest in his dark robes inquired.  
  
"I'm not feeling to well," Josiah whispered, clearing his throat for good measure as he tried to avoid looking at the crowd again. He was never good with public speaking and whomever had given him the vile concoction that had been responsible for this bad dream was going to pay when he woke up. "Could you continue the rest of the service?" He asked, hoping the silent plea in his eyes was not lost on his younger colleague.  
  
"Certainly," the man smiled in understanding. "I'll be happy to."  
  
Josiah made a hasty withdrawal at that point, hurrying out of the main floor of the church to the room secreted in the rest of the building. Curious gazes followed him as he made his exit but Josiah did not care. He just wanted to be away from all those eyes. Disappearing through the door that left the church and the service behind him, Josiah continued up the length of corridor until he could not hear the voice of the other priest showing him how it was supposed to be done. Only when he was far enough away to not be reminded of how bad he was at giving sermons, did Josiah pause to take a deep breath.  
  
Once he had his bearings, following several deep breaths of air that helped to settle the butterflies in his stomach and the nerves that were rampaging through his system with hordes of anxiety in pursuit, Josiah took stock of his situation. It was not hard to discern actually, once he had time to think about.  
  
His situation was this; he had no idea how he had come to be before a congregation, doing what he assumed was delivering a speech until that terrible moment when he senses returned to him and his ability to orate had vanished. Neither was he aware why he was wearing the uniform of a preacher when he had left the path years ago.  
  
The church where he had been delivering his sermon did not at all look familiar to him and that alarmed Josiah considerably. His last memory was of Four Corners. He knew nothing else beyond that one significant point. How he had come to be here was not only eerie, it was down right impossible. He knew he was not a priest and yet he was in a church. Looking around himself, he recognized it to be quite intact, unlike the one he had spent so much time in Four Corners attempting to restore to its former glory. Suddenly, Josiah had a need to escape this building and find out where he was.  
  
He felt most confused because he knew that his last memory had been indulging in a game of cards with Nathan, Ezra and J.D. before retiring to bed at the lodging house in Four Corners. He could remember the faces of those friends much more clearly than he could understand what he was doing here. Yet those people had stared at him like he had always been there. Josiah had thought it was a dream to begin with but his dreams had crows in it and so far not one member of the ornithoid species was to be seen.  
  
He continued down the corridor, seeking out the exit that led out of the building. It was not a big church but it had rooms for residential purposes and had to assume that if this was a reality and he indeed was a priest here, chances are this would be his place of residence as well. However, at the moment, Josiah was not about to make any snap judgements about anything he saw before him. Even though the floors of polished wood and the brick walls painted white with crucifixes and paintings at regular intervals, he was still not ready to say this was anything but a dream.  
  
A set of large wooden doors awaited him when he reached the end of the corridor and Josiah hoped that it was the exit. He really needed to be outside, so that he could take a breath of air in his lungs and tell himself that he did not feel as insane as everything looked to him at this moment. Pulling apart the large doors, which were undoubtedly Spanish in its design, sunlight poured in to the dim corridor. Josiah savoured the heat against his skin and looked into the landscape.  
  
Judging from the flattened terrain and the dry heat of the air, Josiah guessed very quickly he was still out west somewhere. The sun was shining brightly in the sky although it did not have the peak that it would possess were it noon.  
  
There a town surrounding this house of God even though from first impressions, Josiah did not believe it was Four Corners. He already knew it was Sunday but further evidence to the fact was added what he spied beyond the patch of green surrounding the building. There were horses and buggies awaiting their owners return as they were tethered to the fences surrounding the church and some were even bound to a few slender saplings that passed for trees.  
  
"Curiouser and curiouser." Josiah frowned, feeling a little like a blond girl that had suddenly stepped through the looking glass. The preacher stepped forward into the light as if being in the sunshine could explain the mystery that had brought him here. In truth, he was afraid because he suspected that this was no dream and through some quirk of fate, he had been placed here in a reality far removed from the one he knew. Such things were not beyond the realm of explanation for he was an opened minded enough man to know that there was much in the universe that remained an enigma for those who loved solving puzzles. This was once such riddle awaiting a mind perceptive enough to unravel it.  
  
He wondered if this had anything to do with the conversation that he had been having with Ezra and J.D. the morning before. They had been discussing dreams, fulfilled or not. Josiah had confessed his reason for leaving the priesthood had a great deal to do with the inability to sit idly by while the rest of the world fought for its survival. He had never been good at turning the other cheek and since that was the utmost requirement for a man of cloth, Josiah could not live with the hypocrisy of it. It was not a decision he regretted because since becoming part of the seven lawmen who defended Four Corners, he found that there was other ways to fulfil the Lord's work. The seven had helped many people since they began their tenure at Four Corners and that in itself gave Josiah some measure of peace.  
  
Was Ezra and J.D. similarly displaced? The preacher considered this as he continued his walk into the so far unfamiliar town. While it had all the earmarks of an atypical town in the Territory, this was not Four Corners, neither was it Sweet Water or Bitter Creek. From the barber pole to the livery, even down to the general store, it was in every way a community like the one he had called home. If this was reality as he believed and not some dream, where would Ezra and J.D. be? In fact, where would all of them be?  
  
If some force had considered this his greatest wish and granted it, what was to say that the same had not taken place for the rest of the seven? His stomach hollowed at what that would mean for Nathan Jackson and Chris Larabee in particular. However, it was not so much the where that concerned Josiah as much as the how. How had this happened? Now it was true that he had seen many things in his life that defied explanation, the most notable of these would have to be the incident surrounding Darien Lambert. That night, they had learnt that the physical world was not as immutable as any one had ever believed. Altering certain events could shape reality. All it required was the medium that could accommodate the change.  
  
Josiah stepped onto the boardwalk that ran up the length and breadth of the town, momentarily wondering if there was some preordained design that made one town in the territory no different from the other. This whole situation reeked of some form of unreality and yet Josiah could not helped be awed by the flawlessness of its execution. Like magic, he was put in this setting with no one the wiser that he had lived the last fifteen years somewhere else. What kind of spell could induce some marvels.  
  
Spells. Magic.  
  
The two words remained in his memory when the others vanished, awaiting replacement by other thoughts. Josiah froze in his tracks as he tried to understand why those words were so important to him. They clung to the edge of his awareness, refusing to let go as they defied him to solve the mystery of why it was so important he understand why they were there. It lolled around in his head for a few seconds, teasing him with an answer right on the edge of the periphery where he could only grasp at it. Suddenly, like a gasp of a held breath, it escaped him and suddenly, Josiah had some vague idea as to how this could have happened.  
  
Billy.


	4. Divergence

_**CHRIS** _

 

There was only one way for Chris Larabee to prove that he was not going mad. After Buck Wilmington, his oldest and closest friend had informed him that the year was 1875 not 1880 as he believed, Chris found his mind reeling with the possibility that it might be true. How else could he explain how he had suddenly come to be in the same Mexican tavern that he and Buck had found themselves the night that Sarah and Adam had died? One moment he was in Four Corners, lying in bed with Mary and the next he had woken up to find himself here, five years in the past. Chris was not a man who believed in miracles and he had yet to decided how real any of this was, yet one thought registered above all else.  
  
Sarah and Adam were still alive and there was still time to save them.  
  
Buck had resumed dancing with his Mexican senorita although judging by the furrow in the man's face, his heart was not in it as it once was. His eyes were still fixed in Chris' direction, silent in the worries about the strange exchange of a few minutes ago. Chris felt his heart pounding in anxiousness because if this was real and he was here, he had to go home and he had do it now. Striding forward, he grabbed Buck by the arm and pulled him free of the woman. This time, she was not content to express her annoyance in a sharp glare aimed at his direction, instead her shrill voice exploded into a series of rude Mexican expletives.  
  
"Now what!" Buck grumbled, wondering what the hell was going on in Chris' head today. He was convinced Chris had been drinking some of that home made stuff that the bartender sold to drunks who were too wasted to know any better.  
  
"I'll explain later," Chris said abruptly, his grip around Buck's arm still firm as he dragged the big man out of the establishment, trailing a lengthy verbal assault from the young lady he was with.  
  
"Explain what?" Buck demanded but made no attempt to pull away as Chris hauled him outside.  
  
"On the way, Buck!" Chris retorted.  
  
Both men left the tavern and immediately proceeded to the livery. The journey there had Buck firing numerous questions at Chris which the man in black did not respond. Outside the tavern, away from musty smell of cigars, liquor and cheap perfume, the night sky was beautiful and the air as equally fresh. Chris looked up into the sky and saw a myriad of stars twinkling with the same enchantment as he had known, during his last visit here. He had stared at the canvas or iridescence, without suspecting in the slightest what nightmare was taking place at home and what terrors were being faced by his wife and child in their final hours.  
  
Not this time.  
  
He had a chance to stop it from happening. Somehow, Fate had granted him a second chance to save Sarah and Adam and he was not going to waste it. When this had happened to him before, he and Buck had left this place too late to do anything but bury the dead bodies they had found. He closed his eyes shut, trying to force away the memory of how he had found them, their bodies burned and ruined. He had only managed to endure the ceremony of burial because he had been numb inside. Had he allowed the sheer horror of it to filter into his mind, he would have gone mad and plunged into an abyss from which there would be no return.  
  
Back then, all he had been able to do for them was to give them a decent burial, a splinter of what he truly owed them but had little choice but to accept. Until Ella's arrival in Four Corners, he had not even known why, even thought the years preceding her arrival had allowed him enough time to conjure all sorts of reasons. Chris had always believed it was an old adversary, never realizing for one moment that all enemies show their faces in the same way. They say evil can assume a pleasing shape and in Ella's case, it was frightfully true.  
  
Buck Wilmington had tired of asking questions during the journey to the livery and had abandoned the idea of getting a straight answer out of his friend until after they had collected their horses and were on their way home. Despite his annoyance at being forcibly removed from the company of a very accommodating young woman, Buck knew that Chris did not do anything on a whim. Every thought and action was carefully calculated, nothing was ever left to chance. Buck knew that if Chris was this determined, there was a reason for it.  
  
Buck studied Chris unobtrusively as they made their way out of town and saw that his best friend was almost on the edge of panic and could not understand what had frightened him so. It took a great deal to shake the iron hard exterior of Chris Larabee's persona but the expression on his face at the moment did not merely look shaken but afraid. Chris was afraid and for Buck, the idea was almost preposterous. Chris feared nothing, had done so ever since they met the first time. There were very few men that could walk through life the way Chris did and still allowed some measure of humanity to survive the darkness within their souls.  
  
The darkness inside Chris Larabee was always there, surfacing just enough to tell an enemy to withdraw, lest they provoked something terrifying into making itself known. Buck had seen it himself, those fleeting moment when it appeared in the ice of Chris eyes and what he had seen made him recoil. Something so black and vile, predatory in its savagery and possessing the cool of a killer without remorse, would present itself, daring someone to provoke it into action.  
  
He knew Chris kept tight rein of it, controlled it with shackles of discipline and ruthless determination. Buck could not possibly imagine what would happen if it was ever allowed to take complete possession of Chris Larabee. He only knew if it took Chris, it would never let go.  
  
Once they had left the town far behind them, Buck asked his questions again. "You mind telling what the hell is going on now?" He looked at Chris with a frown, understanding that this was Chris way but refusing to believe he should have to like it.  
  
Chris took a deep breath and knew he owed Buck an explanation even though when he did tell his story Buck would most likely think he was crazy. In truth, Chris did not know what was real or unreal any more. He remembered the past five years, the grief and pain of Sarah and Adam's death and the ultimate healing that brought him Mary. It was as clear in his head as this place before him. All he knew was in this time, Sarah was still alive and he clung to that as the only anchor for his sanity to cope.  
  
Releasing a held breath as he formulated some sort of way to present an explanation to Buck, Chris met the gaze of his old friend who would stick by him through the worst of what would happen, should be fail to save Adam and Sarah tonight. "Do you remember me telling you about Ella Gaines?"  
  
"Yeah," Buck nodded, recalling the lady in question even though he had never met her but knew her from Chris' recollections. "You took up with her straight after you got out from the army, didn't you?"  
  
"That's right." Chris swallowed. "I met her just after I resigned and turned in my stripes. When I got out, I drifted for a bit. There wasn't no family waiting for me so I didn't really have any place to go. I ran into Ella and it was like fire and oil from the moment we met. Being with her was like having a fever in your head, she made me crazy and I was ready to shoot anyone that came between us. It was self destructive and I knew it couldn't last forever."  
  
"Ones like that burn out quickly." Buck replied, unable to imagine Chris in the grip of such passionate relationship. With Sarah, the relationship was warm and affectionate, devoid of the heat of a frenzied sexual fire but nonetheless just as satisfying.  
  
"They do," Chris agreed. "Unfortunately for Ella it didn't. When I left her and moved on, I assumed she did too. Buck she's been watching me every day since I left her. She's had people follow me, keeping a bead on who I'm with and who I've married. She thinks I'm hers and she ain't gonna stand anyone else being in the way." Chris met his eyes so that Buck would understand the full measure of Ella's insanity.  
  
Buck started to understand where this was going. "Are you telling me, she might think Sarah and Adam are in the way?"  
  
"Don't ask me how I know this," Chris continued and prayed that Buck would leave it at that. However, he needed Buck's help if he was going to stop Fowler and the men who were on their way to his home, if they were not already there. "She's hired men to kill Sarah and Adam and they are going to do it tonight, while we were in Mexico."  
  
Buck's eyes widened. "Jesus, Chris!" He swore. "Why didn't you just tell me this?"  
  
Chris did not know how to explain to Buck that he had seen an alternate ending to this situation, where he and Buck had stayed on in Mexico as planned only to return home the next morning, to find his house a funeral pyre to his dead wife and son. How in the years that followed, he would almost be driven mad by the grief until a chance stop at a small town called Four Corners, would change everything with a glimmer of cascading gold hair.  
  
"I can't explain it in anyway that can make sense." He retorted, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy Buck for the moment. "All I know is that we have to get there before Fowler and his men arrived or they're going to burn down the house with Sarah and Adam in it."  
  
"Christ," Buck turned away, exasperated by the lack of answers but struck by the fact that had they stayed in Mexico like he wanted and if Chris was right about these men, then Sarah and Adam would die because of him.  
  
Chris knew exactly what Buck was thinking, even though he had hurdled the need to blame Buck following the death of his family. He knew that was part of the reason why Buck had endured the next five years, always remaining close enough to come to his aide if required. During those first few months, Buck was all that had kept Chris Larabee from putting a bullet in his head. Buck had refused to let Chris take the easy way out and the result had been a fracture in their friendship that had never really healed, no matter how much time had passed. Sure, they were still friends but it was not quite the same as what it was before.  
  
"Will this woman Ella be there?" Buck ventured a guess.  
  
"Yes," Chris nodded, his voice icy cold as he made the admission. Mary had mentioned something about Ella's presence at the house the night Sarah and Adam had been killed but did not go into details. Chris had the impression she was trying to protect him from something, although he could not for the life of him imagine what that might be. After losing his wife and son to a fire, Chris could not see what could be worse beyond knowing that. "If she is," he said coldly, "I'm going to find her and make sure they lock her up forever."  
  
Buck hoped that was all he was going to do.

* * *

_**MARY** _

 

  
Okay, she was not dreaming.  
  
She knew this for certain now. Mary Travis found herself walking through the town of Four Corners, not knowing why how this could have happened but having come to the conclusion that this was not fantasy. The rampage by the drunks had subsided for the moment and the town was using the quiet to repair the damage caused by stray fire and general rowdy behaviour. She had left Stephen in his office after cooking breakfast for him and Billy, to take a walk so that she could catch her breath at everything that had happened since this morning.  
  
Despite herself, she could not help feeling some measure of irritation knowing that the office she had spent the last three years, being editor and chief of the Clarion News was no longer hers. She was ashamed of her selfishness. After all, she had always wished for Stephen to survive that terrible night when those greedy landowners had come to take his life. However, in having this particular wish come true, Mary was remembering some other things that had been conveniently forgotten in time. Stephen was a wonderful husband but he let her do nothing and took care of everything. When she had lost him, she understood how much of a liability it was to go through life assuming your husband was required to take care of things.  
  
Strangely enough, during the few weeks she had been married to Chris, that had never been a problem. His requirements were slight, as long as he had enough money to buy bullets and liquor, he did not care what happened to his money and preferred that she managed it. He left most things to her because he knew she was capable of taking care of it and only offered his opinion, when he felt strongly enough about something to make himself heard. For most part, Chris was easy going and very different from what she remembered of married life with Steven.  
  
As she strolled along the boardwalk, she could not help feeling a pang of yearning for him. However, this reality that she was now trapped in had turned her world upside down and suddenly, Mary did not know how she ought to feel about him. Steven was back in her life and she loved her husband as much as she always had but the years since his death had changed her and she was coming to the uncomfortable realization that the woman who was wife and had spent years mourning her husband was gone. A new creature resided in her place. A creature who was fiercely independent, who knew her mind and was not afraid to storm the gates of heaven to get it and most of all, a woman who was still very much in love with Chris Larabee.  
  
She found herself at the general store and peered through the shop front window, paying little attention to the items in display but more concerned with what was transpiring inside. She could see Mr. Hennessy taking case of a number of customers who were at the cash register with their goods, while spotting Mrs. O'Leary engaged in a rather heavy session of gossip with Mrs. Stern whose husband was the local barber. Mary searched the store until her eyes rested on a figure in the background, trying to go unnoticed as he continued to pack the shelves with packets of flour.  
  
Mary found herself smiling despite herself, seeing the utter boredom in his handsome face as he placed another packet of flour on the shelf, while trying to ignore the gaggle of words emanating from Janet and concentrate on what he was doing. He seemed so completely lost doing what he was and Mary knew that he was probably imagining wide open spaces where he could lose himself in the wilderness in complete anonymity. Vin Tanner looked completely out of depth as he tried to adhere to the mundane existence of a shop clerk, trying not to hate what he was doing and looking only for the slightest excuse to get himself thrown out of the place. Mary smiled in secret knowledge, completely aware that the time was drawing near for the event that would change all their lives and the future of Four Corners.  
  
She resumed walking, pleased that salvation for Vin was just around the corner. Her eyes shifted to the town beyond the boardwalk, unable to believe how much would change in two short years following the arrival of the seven. At the moment, it looked as lawless as ever. The sheriff was nowhere to be seen and Mary fumed knowing that he was most likely cowering under his desk in fear, just in case he might be called on to perform his duties.  
  
It surprised her how much law and order had changed Four Corners. At the moment, it looked like any other town where the law of the gun had run rife and citizens were force to tread lightly in fear of the men who wielded their weapons like demi-gods, using fear and intimidation to get whatever they wished. The seven had changed all that. Mary sometimes wondered if any of them knew just how much they had contributed to the prosperity of Four Corners, following their arrival. With their presence in town firmly entrenched, businesses had returned, people who were ready to pack and abandon it had been persuaded to stay and suddenly, no one was afraid any more.  
  
Mary was so intent in her observations that she took her gaze from the path she had been walking and found herself bumping into someone.  
  
"I'm sorry. ." she started to say when she looked up at the stranger's face and reacted almost immediately. "Chris!" She gasped.  
  
The man in black stared at the woman before him, hiding everything behind his steely blue gaze. Like she, he had not been watching where he was going; more interested in finding where the saloon was situated in this dusty town. However, as he laid his eyes upon her, he felt his breath catch and something inside him, long believed to be dead, shook itself free like a huge dog shaking the water off its back.  
  
Sweet Jesus, she was beautiful!  
  
That was the only thing that Chris Larabee could think as he looked into the most expressive blue eyes he had ever seen. In a flash he saw things within those specks of grey that made him feel like a teenager again and the need to run his fingers through that cascade of gold hair framing her lovely face was more than he could stand. He took a step away from her hastily, like he had been scalded at her touch, unable to remove his eyes from that face. It took him another second after he had stepped away from her to realize that she had called his name.  
  
"I don't think we've met." He said coolly.  
  
Mary saw the confusion in his eyes coupled with the intense feeling she would come to know as his love for her, reflecting back at her. He was just as captivating to her as he had been the first time he strode forward into danger, with his black duster trailing behind him in the wind, looking as if hell had rode into town wearing the face of a God. Of course he would not know her even though how he felt was apparent in his face. She felt a swell of pride knowing that he had been affected by her almost as completely as she had when they first laid their eyes upon each other. Mary felt her heart pounding in her chest and knew that around him, a normal heart rate was going to be a memory.  
  
"You're Chris Larabee," she said recovering as best she could. "The gunfighter."  
  
"Just Chris Larabee." He answered, studying her with that penetrating gaze of his.  
  
His heart was beating in his chest and although he wanted to continue the conversation with her, he had no idea what to say. He had not been this tongue-tied with any woman like this since Sarah. Suddenly, the memory of his wife surfaced in his mind. It reminding him of how things were and made him feel extraordinarily guilty that he was even looking at this woman, whom he just noticed was wearing a wedding ring, like someone he would love to take somewhere and spend a lifetime making love to.  
  
"Will you be staying long in Four Corners, Mr. Larabee?" Mary asked, her own voice breathless because she wanted so much for him to take her in his arms and explain what was going on. She looked at him and knew for certain that this reality should not be. Steven had died and as much as she loved him and might have wished for his return, she knew that the person who made that wish had moved on and this reality that she was now experiencing was not meant to be.  
  
Mary wanted her life back, the life where she had married this man before her a few weeks ago, where he had made love to her this morning after breakfast.  
  
"Just passing through." Chris answered, telling himself to walk away but finding that he could not. He studied her face, admiring the luminescent skin whose texture of ivory made him want to brush his fingers against the peach like softness of her face and feel the silk of those pink lips.  
  
"That is unfortunate." She continued, her eyes never leaving his and unspoken things were conveyed and the electricity between them was a force to be felt, a heat that could stood on the edge of starting an inferno.  
  
"I can't see no reason why. . Mrs.?" He asked, his gaze briefly moving to her hand where her wedding ring glimmered under the sunlight.  
  
"Just Mary." She said softly, feeling somewhat ashamed admitting to him that she was married. What must he think of her? A married woman, starting a conversation with a known gunmen in the middle of a public street, with her attraction for him obvious to anyone who paused to look. Her cheeks flushed crimson at the idea and she looked around nervously, breaking the gaze long enough to see a few curious eyes in her direction.  
  
"Maybe I'll see you around, Mary." Chris replied, taking the opportunity to break away.  
  
"I think you will." Mary called out to him.  
  
He looked over his shoulder, long enough to give her a faint smile, one of those shadowy smiles that she had so much trouble reading in the beginning. However, he did not answer but there was just enough sparkle in those cobalt coloured eyes to agree with her. Mary let out a sigh and turned away from him, when she found Steven staring at her.  
  
"Steven." She swallowed being able to tell by the dark expression on his face that he had seen the whole exchange and was completely unimpressed by her behaviour.  
  
"What the hell were you doing talking to that man?" He hissed, taking her arm and towing her back to the Clarion, in front of God and everyone.  
  
"Steven!" She exclaimed loud enough for Chris to pause in his footsteps and watch her being manhandled across the street. She saw a slight flicker in his eyes as if he wanted to intervene but knew not whether he should or not.  
  
"Steven Travis, let me go!" She pulled herself free. "What is the meaning of this?" She demanded, glaring at him in indignant fury. All eyes were fixed on them and Mary felt her cheeks deepen with a crimson shade in pure mortification of this public display.  
  
"Mary," he said barely concealing his anger. "I saw you talking to that man! That's Chris Larabee! The gunfighter! A decent woman does not carry out conversations in public with that kind of scum!"  
  
Mary immediately shifted her gaze to Chris and saw him standing on the barest edge of control. She knew it would take little more than another harsh word from Steven before the gunslinger would be on his way to her defense. Mary did not want things to reach that point. "I'm sorry Steven," Mary said swallowing her anger and tolerating his anger for the moment. There was a sequence of events that needed to happen and if Steven and Chris become locked in some kind of confrontation, it would not happen and neither would everything she remembered. "I ran into him by mistake and we started talking, there was no impropriety intended. I apologize if it appeared that way."  
  
That seemed to pacify his anger and he softened considerably at her admission. "I'm sorry too Mary," he reached for her and ran a gentle wisp of his thumb against her chin. "I over reacted. I just want to keep you safe."  
  
"I know." She replied and linked her arm through his before continuing back to the Clarion.  
  
When she looked over her shoulder as they drew away, she saw that Chris was gone.

* * *

_**VIN** _

 

  
Vin Tanner stared at Kincaid's body wondering how this could be.  
  
He knew for a fact that Kincaid had died more than two years ago because finding his body and returning it to Tuscosa had been one of the defining moments in his life. The sequence of events that would shape his future following his return to Tuscosa had stemmed from this one pivotal moment. When he had taken the body back to the little town, Vin had never suspected that the body he was carrying had been any one but Eli Joe's. He supposed it was an easy enough mistake because Eli Joe had selected his victim well. The man who was lying half immersed in the water trough bore enough of a physical resemblance to the image of Eli Joe on the poster Vin had at the time, for the tracker to make the mistake of thinking it was him.  
  
For a few seconds after his discovery, Vin merely sat and stared in stupefied astonishment at the body before him, trying to understand how this could happen. He had come to realize that somehow, although he was at a loss to know how, he had been returned to the day he had found Kincaid's body. The irony of it was that he had always wished for the opportunity to return to this moment, to walk away so that he could avoid the ramifications it would have upon the rest of his life. Without the bounty on his head, he could actually marry Alex and make a decent start to their life together.  
  
Walking away now would ensure that much would happen but that he still wanted to bring Eli Joe in for using this poor unfortunate as bait. For the longest time, Eli Joe had operated on the assumption that Vin did not know what the outlaw looked like. However, things had changed significantly with the present situation. Vin did know what Ely Joe looked like and he also knew that this body in the trough was a trap laid for him. Vin also had the advantage of surprise because at this time, the outlaw would assume that he had return with the body to Tuscosa to collect his reward. Eli Joe would have every reason to believe that Vin was no longer on his trail and thus would not be looking over his shoulder.  
  
Besides, even if Vin did walk away now, where could he go? Alex was still travelling the world with her father and Chris Larabee had yet to make the fateful trip to Four Corners that would see the formation of the seven. Even then, there was no guarantee that Eli Joe would not come for him because Vin had been the only bounty hunter to get within hair's breath of taking him in. Such men could not live with that possibility hanging over their heads. In the past Vin remembered, Eli Joe had tracked him down even after he was a fugitive with a price on his head. Vin had no intention of walking away only to have Eli emerge from the woodwork in the future to visit grief upon everyone he cared about.  
  
Vin pulled the body out of the water, deciding that if he was going leave Kincaid then the least he could do for the man was give him a proper burial. Vin returned to Peso and rummaged through his saddle, seeking for the tool that would allow him to dig a suitable grave. Like before, there did not seem to be anyone present so he had to find a suitable spot for the gravesite and hoped that Kincaid would not mind the choice. Even though the cold had set into the man's corpse from being in water, the look of him told Vin that Kincaid had not been dead for very long. As he produced the small spade he had in his keeping, Vin decided that once he had completed the task before him, he would camp some distance away from the property and wait until first light.  
  
Once the sun was up, he would return and conduct a thorough investigation of the place, seeking the tracks he had never bothered about before that might give him a clue as to which direction Eli Joe might have headed. No doubt the outlaw would be complacent now, assuming Vin had fallen into his trap and would not be expecting him to continue the hunt. As Vin started digging, he realized he knew very little about Kincaid and wondered if the man had any family to mourn him in or would even care if he was dead. He assumed there had not been because he had been residing in Four Corners for some time now and the only ones who seemed interested in bringing him in were the private bounty hunters and not the law.  
  
In any case, the task of burying Kincaid did not take long. A little more than an hour had passed following Vin's discovery of the body before the tracker put the final piece in the ring of stones that framed the mound where Kincaid was laid to rest. He had selected a spot underneath the shade of some trees not far from the house and although the darkness did not allow him a clear view of the site, it seemed peaceful and somewhat appropriate for a final resting place. Vin wanted to say a few words but nothing came to mind so he decided to leave it at that. If Kincaid had family, they would find him soon enough. Vin had left enough markers to indicate where the grave was.  
  
Returning to Peso, Vin felt the need to put as much distance between himself and this property as possible. A slight shudder ran through his spine at the knowledge that he had somehow stepped through time to emerge at such a fortuitous place in time. Climbing back on top of his horse, Peso seemed just as happy to depart as Vin himself. Before Vin could even nestled himself back into the saddle, Peso had started moving of its own volition, indicating to its master its eagerness to leave this place. Animals were known to have keener senses then men would ever know and Vin wondered if Peso could feel the disturbance in time and space that had allowed his return to this point.  
  
"Come on boy," he dug his heels in and Peso broke into a robust trot away from the property, covering enough distance in a few short minutes to put the place far behind them. Vin could not blame his horse for feeling skittish. This entire situation reeked of supernatural forces at work. Vin was neither gullible nor superstitious but he was not obtuse enough to deny what was right in front of his eyes. He knew his mind, he knew that he had come across Kincaid's body before this and events had unfolded in a different way. Why some twist of fate had allowed him to be in the same position again was beyond his ability to answer but he knew if he had a chance to change things he was going to take it.  
  
The further he drew away from the Kincaid property, Vin found himself wondering how things would progress after this point. While he knew what would happen when he finally made his way to Four Corners, everything between now and then was a mystery and Vin knew it was never wise to tamper with the way things ought to be. However, in Eli Joe's case, he was willing to make the exception. Vin rode further into the darkness, seeking a suitable place to make camp. Despite himself, he found himself wishing Alex was here. He missed her terribly and had no idea how he was going to endure the lonely nights before her arrival in Four Corners.  
  
Even when that did happen, there was no guarantee that she would even recognize him and what they had meant to each other. He was almost tempted to go after her, wherever she was but unfortunately wherever she was, was nowhere on this continent. If what she had told him was correct, at this moment Alexandra Styles was somewhere across the sea with her father. Besides, Vin did not know whether he wanted to face William Styles and explain to the man how a tracker without a penny to his name had somehow won his daughter's heart.  
  
Still, it pleased him to know that if he resolved this situation with Eli Joe, he would no longer be a fugitive. When Alex finally came into his life, everything about their relationship would change. He could marry her, without having to worry about some bounty hunter turning up periodically to claim the $500 reward for his head. It was strange, Vin had never believed he was the marrying kind. Certainly not to a lady of Alex's caliber. Colour not withstanding and he would readily gut any man who made reference to her skin, she was indeed a lady as any he had ever met. Although he feared what William Styles might think of him, Vin would have like to have known the man.  
  
Judging from what Alex had told him about her father, it would have been quite something to know William Styles, since nothing about him seemed very conventional. Vin admired the man for raising such a headstrong daughter even though the fruits of his labour tended to give Vin more headaches than he could possibly imagine, especially when Alex got into her mind to do something to which Vin was diametrically opposed.  
  
He was some distance away from Kincaid's property when suddenly, he could see the illumination of a campfire in the distance. He was still far away enough not to be heard by whomever had started the fire and Vin immediately pulled Peso to a halt. There was no other sound to be heard, except the voices emanating from the fire and the occasional hoot of an owl in the darkness. Vin had a good idea who was out there so he climbed off his horse and tethered Peso to a nearby tree. He could make the rest of the journey ahead on foot and it would be far wiser to make a stealthy advance.  
  
Moving through the scrub, Vin blended into the dark, making no sound as he crept towards the fire, his eyes keeping watch on everything around him, paying attention to every bit of sound that spoke to him in the night. Despite his eagerness to have his suspicion confirmed, he did not make the mistake of rushing in blindly. The enemy had proved himself to be a crafty opponent and the innocent sounds in the dark might easily be faked to trick someone into believing all was well. Vin who had used the tactic enough times in his life, was very aware of this.  
  
However, by the time Vin finally neared the campfire, he had so far remained unaccosted or had yet to stumble into any ambush. As he let his guard down a bit, he neared the edge of the fire's concentration, closing in on the prey just far enough to see the illumination of the campfire, bouncing off himself but not enough to be seen by the four men who were gathered around it. Their lively chatter indicated no sign of awareness of being watched and judging by the slur in their speech, they were quite drunk. Vin's eyes moved across the faces, recognizing none of them as he followed the bottle they were passing around.  
  
Only when the last man took a hold of it, did Vin's breath catch.  
  
Eli Joe was among them.  
  
Vin's eyes narrowed at the sigh of his nemesis, wondering if the man had any idea that he was being watched or how much difficulty he had caused Vin in the past that only the tracker remembered now. Of course he knew, Vin thought ruefully glaring at Eli Joe who was taking a swig from the bottle of whisky being bandied about. It had been the man's plan all the time, not only to make Vin a hunted fugitive but to make him feel just as hunted and disaffected as he did, to make him know what it was to not have a future. If it was not for Chris Larabee and Alexander Styles entering his life, Vin might have very well succumbed to the anguish that Eli Joe had wanted him to endure, except there was one significant difference between himself and the man he had been tracking. Vin had never murdered anyone.  
  
Still all that had now changed. The moment he had walked away from Kincaid, he had erased the stain that would follow him in the years ahead and by the time Vin was done with Eli Joe tonight, there would be no other Kincaid's left to find.

* * *

_**ALEX**_  
  
  
When Alexandra Styles finally coaxed her legs into movement, she ran forward and embraced the man coming towards her without care or thought for that matter of the spectacle she was making of herself. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him close to her, unable to believe that it was really him until she was able to feel the warmth of his familiar embrace around her. The tears had come so quickly, she had little time to stop them as she held her father in a hug full of happiness and rejoicing.  
  
"Daddy" Alex whispered, crying softly as she clung to him. "Its really you."  
  
William Styles was mildly surprised by this emotional greeting from his usually level headed and extremely competent daughter. "Of course it's me, Lex." He said somewhat puzzled by the reception. "You only saw me yesterday."  
  
Alex pulled away from him and composed herself, ignoring the strange looks she was getting from the people moving past her in the hospital corridor. Yes, that would make sense in this strange world she had stumbled into. He was always a big part of her life, even if she did snare a plush posting in a hospital like this, she had no doubt he would cross an ocean to be with her. They had rarely been apart since the day she was born and Alex had no doubt that if Randall Mason had not caused his death prematurely, they would still be together.  
  
"I'm being silly," she said drawing breath to steady herself at the shock of seeing him here. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked at him and saw that he had not changed at all. He still wore his favourite dark suit, his once dark hair having thinned considerably and he stared at hers with the dark brown eyes that most thought she had inherited from her mother but were actually from him. "I'm having a very strange day," she responded, uncertain if she ought to tell him that just yesterday, she was in a world far removed from this one.  
  
"Well," he frowned, not believing it for a second because there seem to be more to it than she was letting on. However, as he had come to know about his daughter, she would let him know when she was ready. "I thought I would tear you away from this bastion of medical conformity and take you to lunch."  
  
"Bastion of medical conformity?" Alex had to laugh, remembering how he felt about practicing in a proper hospital. Her father severely disliked conventional medical practices, which was why he had spent the first half of his life trekking across the globe and the rest of it taking her with him. "Daddy, you haven't changed a bit but lunch sounds good." She smiled, linking her arm through his as they resumed walking towards the main doors.  
  
William Styles stared at her a moment, wondering what was behind that odd remark and shook it off. "You seemed a little distracted, Lex."  
  
As they stepped out of the hospital into the sunshine beyond the white walls of the establishment, Alex took a deep breath and decided that the air like everything else she had experienced today was real enough. She was still confused at how she had come to this place but at the moment, with the blue sky shining gloriously over the manicured perfection of the hospital lawns and her father at her side, she decided she could leave the questions of the how until later. For right now, she wanted to enjoy the moment, even if she could wake up at any moment and find this to be nothing more than a vivid dream.  
  
"I'm wondering what I'm doing here." She admitted, deciding that was as close as she was going to get to telling him the truth.  
  
"I often wonder myself. We're in a new continent," he declared, his gaze moving across the place in a gesture of the land's sweeping vastness. "We could travel the country from one end to the other, I for one would like to meet the Indians at some point. I could probably devote an entire section of my book to their medicine men alone. Unfortunately," he sighed with the barest hint of a smile on his face. "I am doomed to languish in this stolid surroundings because my daughter wishes to adhere to convention and practice like an outstanding member of the medical community."  
  
Alex rolled her eyes, remembering his sense of humour and realizing that she probably acquired it from him. "That's not exactly true you know." She remarked, embarking upon an idea that was probably insane but not caring because there were two things in her life she could not do without. One was her father and through some miracle he was here, talking about exploring America like he was Marco Polo setting out on the Silk Road. However, his remarks did give her the opportunity to acquire the other thing she could not be without Vin.  
  
"I would not mind practicing some frontier medicine." She met his gaze and saw the surprise filtering into his face at her admission. "Perhaps in some place like the west."  
  
"Really Lex?" He stared at her hard. "I never thought you were interested in frontier work. That is probably my fault for dragging you half way across the world."  
  
"Daddy," Alex sighed, not liking for one minute that he believed she might have not enjoyed time together. "I loved every minute of it but I have a question of you first." Undoubtedly, if she wished to make her way to Four Corners, deep inside what was known to proper Bostonians as the Territory, her father would accompany her and to truthfully, Alex was reluctant to leave him behind after finding him again.  
  
"I am intrigued." Styles retorted and he truly was. For as long as she had completed her internship, all Alex had ever wanted to do was practice in a proper hospital. Although he was disappointed for he had hoped they would resume their globe trotting once again, he understood that he could not hamper her quest for her own dreams. Unfortunately, he was painfully aware that proper English society considered his beloved daughter to be of questionable pedigree despite the fact that he came from a notable family. However, who her mother had been would follow Alex all her life and he knew that there would be no residency at any hospital with that stain in her past. Thus, he had used his considerable influence across the Atlantic, calling on favour from friends who were physicians in the New World and landed her this post.  
  
Since her arrival at Boston Mercy, Alex had accomplished what most women of her time could only dream of. She had become a surgeon with a reputation that was quickly becoming one of the most notable in Boston. Even though he missed not having to travel, he was still exceedingly proud of her. To hear that she now considered leaving all this behind for something entirely different, practicing frontier medicine no less, was somewhat of a surprise.  
  
"Daddy, if I told you I met someone, what would you say?"  
  
He showed no reaction even though inside, William Styles knew that this day would come. He hated thinking his free spirited daughter chained to a society like this. Bostonians were the most boring people in the world, the very idea of Alex becoming counted with their ranks was depressing. "What would you like me to say? I always assumed this would happen. I gather he is a doctor?" He ventured a guess.  
  
Alex smiled, seeing the dread in his eyes. He could never lose her, did he not understand that? They finally reached the edge of hospital grounds and stepped onto the sidewalk that ran past one of the many streets in Boston. The day had brought everyone out and well dressed folk in suits, made their way up and down paved streets with lamp posts and grand buildings towering over them. It was so far removed from Four Corners that Alex knew in an instant that she hated it.  
  
"No daddy," she replied, wondering how she would describe Vin to him. "He's not a doctor, or a lawyer or anything like that. He can barely read, although I understand his lessons are progressing well. He's a lawman in the Territory."  
  
His amazement showed. "How on Earth did you meet a lawman in Boston?" He asked, although Alex had yet to see any signs of disapproval in his eyes.  
  
"It's a long story." She said brushing the question aside. He had no idea how long a story it really was. "He doesn't have a penny to his name or anything else for that matter. He lives on a dollar a day." Alex had no idea how much her expression told her father as she spoke of Vin, unaware that the emotion swelling inside her heart was being reflected in her eyes. "But he loves me daddy, he doesn't care who my mother was, he doesn't call me a doctor, he calls me a healer and at this moment, he's in back in a little town called Four Corners, doing the things he does. I miss him."  
  
"I can see that." Styles responded, having never seen his daughter being so taken by any man. He supposed if this lawman was anything like how she described him, Alex had ever reason to be so enamored. Styles himself could not judge, he would reserve that opinion until he met the man for himself, although in truth, he cared little about the man's background just his character. Alex's mother had been the single brightest light of his life, eclipsed only by the daughter she left him. He had never regretted for one moment the decision to take Yasmine for his wife, despite the objections of his family due to her heathen background and her vocation as a dancer. The brief years he had spent with her had been the best of his life. He would not trade them for anything. Certainly not for the respectable English wife everyone had assumed he should have taken. If Alex had found someone who fulfilled her in the same way, he could not begrudge her his blessing because he knew what it was like to be cast out for the choices on made in life.  
  
"So, what is this lawman's name?"  
  
"Vin. Tanner" She answered, pleased that she saw no recriminations in his face and was grateful that her father was not inundating her with questions since when she finally did arrive at Four Corners, she was going to have enough of that with Vin. Nevertheless, Alex was determined to find the tracker even if he had no idea who she was. Besides, she knew Vin loved her.  
  
He just did not know it yet.  


* * *

_**EZRA** _

 

  
When Ezra Standish finally walked out of the townhouse supposedly occupied by himself, his wife and two children, the gambler found himself letting out a sigh of relief the likes of which he had never known before. Once in New Orleans, he had been forced to play a hand of poker with two rather menacing individuals who took to polishing their knives during the game as a clear indicator to their opponents as to what would happen should they lose the hand. Ezra, who had been holding a straight flush at the time had never been so concerned in his life and later considered it to be the most frightened he had ever been.  
  
Finding out he was married with children, was even worse than that. Although he stumbled through most of the morning like a soldier suffering battle fatigue, Ezra had somehow managed to offer his 'family' enough coherence to not rouse any suspicions. When he had finally left for work, he had been most astonished to find he had a carriage waiting for him and had confessed his desire to take in some fresh air before Annabelle would let him leave on his own volition. Ezra had no idea being married could be so damn restrictive. Upon leaving the house, he came to the very terrifying conclusion that if this was what it was like just to endure a morning in the state of matrimony, he would never survive a lifetime.  
  
Despite his abhorrence to the whole prospect of a having a wife, he had to admit feeling some spark of pleasure at seeing his children. Elizabeth seemed to be his shadow, following him around for most of the morning, chattering idly about things only a child considered important and to his surprise, Ezra found he did not mind listening to her prattle on. Then again, Ezra had always had a soft spot for children although he would rather be tarred and feather before he was ready to admit it.  
  
According to Annabelle, he was a lawyer and if it were not for the cards in his wallet, Ezra would have had no idea where his office was or what city he was presently in. He discovered that he was indeed in Charleston as he had guessed earlier in an address that was located in the fashionable side of town. Ezra walked past the tree-lined avenues, admiring the old houses that had probably been standing for as long as Charleston had existed on the map. He had to admit this fantasy of the life he had dreamt of as a child, certainly did fit the image held in his mind.  
  
He was expected at work apparently and a morbid curiosity was drawing Ezra to the office where he supposedly conducted his law practice. Although he knew in his mind that everything that had happened today was impossible, he wanted to see what his respectable alter ego did during his day. Ezra could not imagine himself as a notable man of the law but he had considered that a solicitor would have a great deal of resources at his disposal. Perhaps, he could make use of those resources to find Julia and the rest of the seven. If he was here in this twisted reality, where the rest of his friends? What had happened to his mother? Was she still moving from place to place, following one con after another? How had she managed without him?  
  
Despite the idyllic existence he had supposedly wanted all his life, Ezra felt suffocated by the whole persona he had woken up to this morning. He needed a drink badly and he needed a game of cards to remind him who he was. He thought about Julia, feeling a deep pining for her as he wondered where she was in the scheme of things. Was she in Four Corners with the rest of the seven? He wondered if they would miss him and before he realized that such a thing was an impossibility when he had never been apart of their lives in the first place. He had no illusions that they would have gone on quite well without him, finding no sense of loss by his absence.  
  
Eventually, he relented and proceeded to the office where he supposedly carried out his career as a lawyer of some note in Charleston. The city itself had not changed and Ezra was able to navigate he way through the streets and busy avenues to find the prestigious business district where as displayed on the card, resided the office of Ezra Standish, Attorney at Law. Even seeing it on the card did not make it any real for him because Ezra still had memories of who he had been and those memories did not speak of a person of any repute. The man he had been, no, he corrected, the man he was, had the basic ingredients of morality but little more than that.  
  
The office was located in a building that towered at least three stories in height and as he walked into the main lobby, a well dressed door man tipped his hat in Ezra's direction and greeted him with a wide smile. "Good morning Mr. Standish."  
  
"Good morning." Ezra said trying to return the warmth in the man's voice even though he did not feel it.  
  
"Congratulations on your big case." He added. "You sure show them darkies how we do things in the south."  
  
Ezra looked at him sharply. What the hell did he mean by that? Ezra wondered, starting to have some very terrible suspicions rising from the pit of his stomach. "Thank you." He said hiding how much the door man's words had shaken him.  
  
As Ezra descended up the stairs, his mind whirled at what the man had said. He supposed the Ezra Standish who was an outstanding member of the community would never have had the chance to meet Nathan Jackson or Alexandra Styles. Between the two of them, they had managed to change the way Ezra viewed people. Until Nathan's presence in his life, the idea that a black man could become a friend let alone and equal was unimaginable to him. Even though he never condone the cruelty to Negroes in any shape or form, he certainly did not feel that they were equals. Nathan had changed all that.  
  
If he had never met Nathan than all that he become since knowing the healer would be no more. Ezra had a feeling that the man who was in place of that person was a true figure of southern hospitality, cut in the same ilk as men like Nicholas Serfonteine and James Micawber. The idea that the progression of his so called respectable life had led him to adopt such philosophies made Ezra sick to the stomach. Nathan Jackson was his friend, a close a friend as any he had ever had. Nathan had not only saved his life more times than Ezra could count but he had done so knowing how Ezra had felt about him.  
  
He was still engaged in these disturbing thoughts when he reached the floor where his office was supposedly situated. He walked down the corridor that smelled of fresh paint and the lacquer of the polished wood floor and found that he was in extremely good company. Passing by the doors on the way to his own, Ezra spied a doctor practice, a cadastral surveyor and even an insurance broker in the office preceding his own. Ezra could not imagine spending his days cooped up in one place, pouring over books trying to find legal loopholes which were really nothing more than another form of the con, except the mark was a jury of twelve men supposedly good and true. Ezra supposed it was not so difficult for him to excel at the vocation when anything requiring deception was involved.  
  
Upon reaching his office, he saw his name stenciled neatly on the frosted glass of the door and voices busy at work emanating from behind it. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if the wiser thing was to just walk away right now, instead of entering and facing the real possibility of being exposed as a fraud. As it was, he had serious reservations about the kind of law he practiced. Was he merely a mouthpiece for extremist views on keeping the black man down in his place? Is that what being respectable was all about?  
  
Deciding he would never know until he found out, Ezra twisted the door knob and entered the room. He found himself in an office a great deal more elaborate in furnishings and design that Mary Travis' own at the Clarion News. He saw a number of clerk sitting behind desks, doing battle with typewriters, flanking an aisle ran past their desks, culminating at a partitioned section that Ezra assumed was his own private bastion. The room had the aroma of old papers and books, the source of which he spied found one corner, where a thick volumes of law books were in residence along a wide shelf.  
  
Light poured through the open window, illuminating the dust in the air and giving the place an atmosphere or erudite respectability. He had no sooner stepped into what passed for his waiting room, when he noticed a young black woman rising to her feet at his arrival. Before she was allowed to speak, one of the clerks obviously in his employ, hurried from behind his desk to intercept the conversation. A weedy looking young man with pocked skin approached him nervously.  
  
"Mr. Standish, this is Mrs. Washington." He whispered anxiously, his eyes darting furtively to the lady and then to Ezra as if trying to convey some secret message of importance.  
  
"Mrs. Washington?" Ezra asked, naturally unfamiliar with the name, wondering why the man was keeping his voice low and doing it in such an obvious way that the woman was completely aware of it. Her brown eyes met Ezra's with nothing less than contempt and he prayed secretly that his respectable stance on racial politics had not caused this woman mischief.  
  
Turning to the lady, he tried to continue the facade that he had some idea of who she was even though it was a mystery to him. "What can I do for you Mrs. Washington."  
  
She strode up to him, fire in her eyes, looking magnificent even though her clothes were faded and worn. She carried herself with great dignity as she approached him. Without warning, her hand flew back and struck him clear across the face. "You bastard! I hope you're happy!"  
  
It was not by any means a blow that hurt him but it was the vehemence behind that caused the most damage. Her face glared at him with rage but underlying it was an anguish that was as plain as day for anyone who cared enough to look. Without knowing the specifics of what he had done, Ezra knew instinctively that he had wronged her greatly and mischief was a vast understatement to what crime he had committed under the veneer of respectability he used as a shield.  
  
"Now see here," his clerk declared and took a step towards her. She held her ground, unflinching in her fear of harm coming to herself. The other clerks were rising from their seats, rallying to his defense in similar fashion.  
  
"Stop." Ezra said firmly, gesturing with one hand that he wanted no action taken against her. Judging by the unspoken sorrow in her eyes, he guessed that she was in enough pain. A slap across the face was not exactly the worst insult anyone had ever paid him and he knew his ego would survive this. "Madam, if you could just tell me. ."  
  
"Tell you?" She laughed a cold humorless laugh, devoid of any amusement. "You got your friends off. All of them! They raped my little sister, killed my Albert when he tried to stop them and you! You let them get away with it!" Her voice started to shake as she stared him down, her eyes welling with tears that had been long restrained. Ezra saw the wall of strength shatter and the grief came tumbling down across her face.  
  
"Mr. Standish is not responsible." The clerk said behind him. "You nigras ought to know your place. You had no business buying that place next to Ray Parkinson and his kin. You asked for what happened to you."  
  
Ezra swallowed, feeling the bile rise from his stomach as he started to understand what part he had played in this woman's tragic circumstances. No doubt, the Washingtons as many others before and after them had done since the war, found themselves land owners next to white families who still believed that a Negro's place was still in the cotton fields as slave. Violence ensued as it almost always did and naturally, Mrs. Washington had made some attempt to seek justice only to realize that justice to Negroes in the south was a scarce thing.  
  
"I came here today to let you know that you let an innocent man die for nothing. I guess to folk like you what's one more dead nigger." With that, she turned on her heels and left, saying nothing and eliciting silence in her departure from everyone in the room. Only after the door had slammed behind her could Ezra release a held breath. If anything had the power to tarnish the dream of this seemingly perfect existence, it was the sorrow he had seen in her eyes as she spoke her final words.  
  
"Uppity bitch." Someone said with complete and utter derision.  
  
Ezra tried to hide his disgust at the lack of compassion or the understanding for what the woman had been trying to say and decided it was pointless attempting to make them understand that there was no pride to be had regarding the case that had garnered him everyone's salutations. He felt the clerk pat him on the back and remark. "Don't worry about her Mr. Standish," the man said, smiling at Ezra as if the compliment he was paying Ezra only served to deepen the gambler's disgust at the man he had become in this fantasy world.  
  
Ezra said nothing and broke away, striding towards his desk, deciding that at least in there he would have a moment to decide how much more of this charade he could tolerate before he got on his horse and started riding for Four Corners.

* * *

_**JULIA**_  
  
  
She was rich.  
  
She was finally secure. She was rich, rich, rich.  
  
Although Julia Pemberton had once believed that when she was allowed to inherit her father's entire estate without the burden of having a husband to lord over her and her money, she would be deliriously happy. Often she would play out a scenario in her head where she would be transformed from restrictive heiress into a world famous traveller, using her money to take her across the globe from one adventure to another. Even though she had loved her father, she had been a different person in those days, selfish and self absorbed. Julia had believed the world to be her oyster and no one had the right to deny her what was hers, in particular her father. He had been her creature for as long as she had lived and when he had arranged her marriage with Packard, Julia had learnt for the first time how wrong she had been. Even after she had fled Philadelphia, even after she had reached Four Corners, she had often wished that if he had only died before he could arrange the marriage with Roderick Packard.  
  
Now that it had finally happened, Julia was uncertain or not whether this was a blessing or a curse. After the initial shock had faded, following Packard's announcement of what was contained in the will, Julia had felt a certain smug satisfaction as she walked into the house, surrounded by relatives she despised for the reading of the will. She watched them treading lightly around her, uncertain of how to behave since her father's death had been so sudden and it was likely the will he left behind would favour his only child. Most of her relation, owed in some way, their income to the prosperity of Donald Avery. With his being dead, that income now remained in precarious balance and those who had reason to treat Julia with scorn, realized now the folly of their actions.  
  
When the will was read, it was as bad as they feared. Julia had indeed been left the entire estate, all two million dollars worth of assets, from cash to stock and bonds, to real estate. She had barely paid attention to the details once she was told she had inherited everything. Julia enjoyed the expression of stark fear in the eyes of the family as they learnt that the trusts they had lived upon for so long were now to be handled at Julia's discretion in whatever manner she saw fit.  
  
For the first few days, she had been in a bliss of power, exulting in it as she had never enjoyed anything so much in her life. She had once believed that the heights of pleasure could be reached by sexual possession of another being but there was power more potent and far more satisfying than that. She thoroughly enjoyed her intimidation of her pompous relatives who had lived viewed her with contempt all her life, hating her because she was as highly regarded to Donald as the wife they never approved of.  
  
Although she meant them no real harm, Julia nonetheless kept them in the dark, seeing no reason to let them know that she had no intention of interfering with their incomes, because her father's holdings were still ongoing and managed by efficient accountants. However, that did not mean she could not enjoy herself at their expense for a little while. Still, the pleasure soon dwindled as a new threat began appearing on the horizon.  
  
Roderick Packard, despite her best attempts to convey the message that she wanted little to do with him, was an insistent visitor to the house. While she tried not to be unkind because he had a manner about him that could inspire menace if properly provoked, Julia had no intention of giving him any false hopes that that she might be in the least interested in pursuing a friendship with him. Only his death had stopped the plans her father never had a chance to bring to fruition when he had first approached Packard. Julia had no wish to fall in the same trap again.  
  
However, Packard was not the only problem. Unfortunately, the word was out all across Philadelphia society that a very eligible heiress had suddenly come into a considerable fortune. That sort of news was enough to send every fortune hunter in the state scurrying in her direction. Very soon, Julia was becoming inundated with invitations to tea from dowagers whom had previously looked down upon her, having properly been informed of her wanton behaviour by her loving relations. Apparently the money seemed to have created a vortex of amnesia because no one seemed to remember her past reputation.  
  
Julia knew there was only one man she wanted and as soon as she was able, she instructed detectives to find out if Ezra Standish was still in the town of Four Corners and if not, where was he? Their services had not come cheaply but fortunately, they were well worth the investment. In a matter of days after her initial inquiry, Julia Pemberton was told that Ezra Standish was indeed in Four Corners, being one of seven men charged to protect the township from the bad elements of the Territory.  
  
Julia remembered reading the report and thinking with a faint smile that the seven men charged with maintaining law and order were the bad element. Still, knowing Ezra was in Four Corners gave the heiress a great deal of relief. The fortune hunters that were after her inheritance had come out of the woodwork with a vengeance. It did not help matters that she was an extremely woman but coupled with the fact that she was a young millionaire, the men who came courting for her hand saw this a mere bonus to the robust fortune that would become theirs to control upon the betrothal.  
  
It was not to say that the men vying from her attentions were less than perfect. Not all of them were like Roderick Packard whose interest in Julia actually eclipsed the money she had inherited. While he would have been ecstatic, as any man might have been to acquire such a fortune, he was more interested in the family from which Julia came. Packard was known as new money to the traditionally upper classes of Philadelphian society. Such men had trouble gaining acceptance into the social circle of the elite. While Packard was liked by some and tolerated by others of this select group, he could never hope to counted as one of them.  
  
That is unless he married well.  
  
Despite the fact that she was considered a wanton in Philadelphia society, Julia was still an Avery and to Packard that was the vehicle in which he would ride into the company of the elite. They would accept him begrudgingly of course but tradition would demand that he be accepted, nonetheless. Thus, he was determined and resolute in his desire to win the affections of the young lady that would make his dreams come true.  
  
Julia knew this of course and she held him at arm's length. In fact, she pushed them all away where once she would have made them tear each other apart for her amusement. Unlike Packard, not all her suitors were coarse and unrefined. Some were polished like fine stones, while others were beautiful to the point that they would be completely boring outside the bedroom. Julia had no need of such distraction and found herself thinking as they paraded themselves before her, that none had the charm or the character of a gambler who was willing to con a bunch of marauding drunks with a card and gun with one live bullet and five blanks.  
  
When she had discovered that Ezra was where he was in Four Corners, continuing with his life as always, with the notable exception of her acceptance, Julia found the first bright spark in her life following the fulfilment of what she once thought to be her perfect dream. Two million dollars had become a millstone around her neck from which Julia had not the strength to discard. She needed to find Ezra, to have him tell her that this was going to be a nightmare from which she would awake. Julia did not care that he would not even know her if she were to seek him out.  
  
She had made him love her once. Julia was absolutely certain she could do it again.  
  
Still, Packard might prove to be a problem. The reasons for his determination to marry her were also adequate reasons as far as Julia was concerned for him to pursue her. She remembered the difficulties endured by Alexandra Styles when Randall Mason had appeared in town and she had no intention of enduring a similar situation with Packard. He was rich and used to getting what he wanted in life, managing his fortune as easily as he managed the people who ran it for him. If he suspected things might not go his way, Julia had no doubt that he would resort to extreme measure to see to it that it did.  
  
Fortunately, Julia had a plan. She always did and the intellect of Roderick Packard and the likes of him were easily circumvented because they possessed an arrogance about them that enforced the belief that the will to do a thing could make up for the lack of ability. In truth, Julia's plan had even more far reaching consequences than anyone who have guessed, should she be forced to remain in this strange reality where wishes came true in the worst possible way.  
  
It was a plan to rid herself of fortune hunters, the would be husbands and the sycophants who would do anything for her just to be thrown scraps from her table.  
  
To be free of Packard and others of his kind, she had to married. Fortunately for Julia, she had just the perfect candidate in mind.

* * *

 

 **BUCK**  
  
Buck Wilmington walked out of the saloon with deep thoughts running through his mind. The joy at finding out Inez had forgiven him had been quickly eclipsed by the shattering news she had just brought to his attention. He could not believe that she had given him so little time to prepare for such astonishing news, masking her announcement under a flurry of seductive kisses, as if that could ease the burden of the knowledge she was about to impart upon him. He had merely stumbled out of the kitchen, too astonished to say anything with nothing more than a wide-eyed look that spoke volumes more than words ever could.  
  
He needed to think because with her one statement, she had changed his life. Buck supposed it was inevitable that something like this would happen to him eventually. With the number of sexual encounters he had on a weekly basis, it was somewhat surprising that it had not taken place sooner. Well, there was that one time with Lucy but in the end, Lucy's allegation that he was the father or her child was merely a ruse to prompt the man who was really responsible into marrying her. If it were anyone else, Buck would be denying it vehemently, but it was not anyone else. It was Inez.  
  
Even though he was presently staggering down the main street like a battle weary soldier who had just come off the line, he knew that he loved the sultry barmaid. He also knew that he had been the only man to have begotten Inez with child. As much as he wanted to run and the urge was quite overwhelming, he could not. This was not just some fleeting encounter like the others, to be discarded when it became inconvenient. This was Inez. He loved her and did not want her to be ruined as this surely would, when the news got out. Besides, the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea that there would be a child in this world that came from the both of them.  
  
Once again, Buck found himself revisited by all those old memories of fatherhood that he had considered when Lucy was determined to have him believe he was the father of her child. Back then, his mind had been filled with doubt and hesitation since he had trouble believing he could be responsible in the first place. However, with Inez there was no doubt, not one shred of it. He knew that when she said he was the one, he believed her because despite their fiery relationship, Buck and Inez had the firm rule of always being honest with one another.  
  
Buck did not know his father. He had always wondered what it would be like to have one and knew what it was like to grow up without the strong comforting hand that supplemented the soft warmth of a mother's love. When he was a child, he had convinced himself that fathers played a minor part in the upbringing of a child and that he did not need one to become his own man. Not only until after Adam was born, until Buck saw how much Adam had adored Chris, did he realize that he might have missed something important. Chris had been a great father and in the memories, Buck was certain Chris had driven from his mind from sheer grief, Buck saw how good father and son were together. The adoration was mutual and Buck had been privileged to play the part of Uncle as he was now pleased to fill that role for Billy Travis.  
  
He did not want Inez to go through what his mother did, having to raise a child all alone. His mother had done well by him and he had shed real tears of sorrow when she had passed on but Buck refused to run out on Inez like his own father had done to his mother. It frightened him spitless to conceive what sacrifices needed to be made when something like this was decided upon, however, it repulsed him even more to know that there would be a child without the benefit of his name or his love if Buck chose to turn tail and run.  
  
So perhaps, it had come sooner than he thought, the impetus that would finally make him settle down but he had it better than most men. He knew he loved Inez, he loved her with a passion and warmth that drove him crazy and he had decided long ago, though he told no one about it, that she was the only one he could ever think of settling down with. For the year, he had been gravitating back and forth with what he should do with this knowledge. Now he knew for certain.  
  
Buck had to marry her and do the right thing by her.  
  
Buck had been so intent with his thoughts that he had not been paying much attention over what was happening around him. Upon reaching that momentous decision, the lawmen looked up for the first time since his sudden departure from the Standish saloon. When he did, he noticed that something particularly odd was going on. All the women seemed to be staring at him. It took a moment for him to realize that they were not merely staring; their gazes fixed on him as he moved across the street, no matter where they were on the street, in the shops, with their children in hand and their husbands alongside. The men seemed oblivious to him, going on as they always had but the women were something else entirely.  
  
Buck wondered what was going on and found himself swallowing deeply, feeling somewhat intimidated by those eyes bearing down on him with such intensity. A trio of young women, whom he knew quite well, strolled towards him, actually sashayed would be a better word. There was suggestion in their eyes that indicated a desire to more than just talking to him. Buck for the life of him, could not imagine what was going. He questioned whether it was just him or had the world gone entirely crazy today, from the manner in which Inez had announced her news to the way every woman in town was staring at him like he was something to be feasted upon.  
  
"Hello Buck." The brunette who made up the three greeted with honey in her voice upon reaching him. For the life of him, he could not remember her name. Judy or Trudy...something like that.  
  
"Hi there." He answered, trying to hide the apprehension in his voice.  
  
"Me and my sisters were going for a ride, would you like to come along?" She asked, before all three burst into girlish titters as they closed in around him like vultures on a particularly tasty bit of carcasses. He felt hands on his face, shirt, enclosing his shoulders and offering delights in every caress of a soft palm. No matter how delicious the invitation might be Buck could not help notice that it was being made in the main street, with the entire town taking account. What were these three on? He wondered as he felt someone squeezing his rump.  
  
"Take your hands off him!" Another feminine voice unfamiliar to the three entered the mix.  
  
Buck pulled away from the three, astonished by their action and found that his rescuer was none other than Alexandra Styles. The doctor strode firmly towards Buck and the trio of amorous girls and grabbed him by the hand and pulled him away from their ministrations.  
  
"Come on Buck," Alex said firmly. "You need to get off the street." She replied in that familiar no nonsense tone he had come to know. "You seem to be in demand today."  
  
"You're not kidding," he replied, grateful for her intervention as she dragged him away from the three young women who would not have left his virtue intact. "What is it with the women today?" He asked, taking note that the others watched his departure with salacious interest. Seeing the hunger in their eyes only made Buck hasten to keep up with Alex as she led him to the direction of the clinic.  
  
"It's your animal magnetism." She looked over her shoulder, displaying no traces of the hunger apparent in the eyes of the rest of Four Corners' female population. "Its been enhanced somehow. I have no doubt that if I were to take the time to do the research, we would discover that your pheromone levels have probably quadrupled geometrically."  
  
Alex lost Buck after the word magnetism but he understood most of what she had tried to put forward to emit a rather stunned exclamation. "You're kidding me."  
  
"Not all," she said as they rounded the corner and approached the clinic. "It happens sometimes in nature, especially where the male of the species is outnumbered by the female. Pheromones are extremely potent stuff; they trigger the most biological impulses in an animal. Humans, no matter how much they might claim otherwise, are a more specialized animal."  
  
"Then how come you ain't affected?" He asked.  
  
"I didn't say I was not," she looked over her shoulder and gave him a perfectly evil smile. "However, I know what is happening and that gives me some ability to fight it. Have you not experienced anything strange this morning?"  
  
Where did he start? Buck wanted to say but gave her words due consideration to come up with an answer. "Yeah, I have. Inez ain't mad at me any more. All of sudden, she was coming on strong, like she hadn't wanted my guts on a platter for the past month."  
  
"I would say that is a definite yes." Alex retorted as they reached the clinic.  
  
Buck was grateful to be indoors, although the sight of a group of women starting to converge upon the clinic horrified him. He noticed that they were coming towards the house in almost trancelike state and was glad when Alex slammed the door shut behind them and locked in. He peered out the window, almost mesmerized by their slow advance. It did not matter how old they were; they were still coming after him. He counted at least twenty of them lingering in the street, trying to decide if they were going to rush the place or not.  
  
"Can you do something to stop it?" He turned to Alex, who had swept out of the waiting room and had disappeared into her examination room.  
  
"I don't know," she called out. "I thought that perhaps if we can smear you with some other pheromone that might counteract what you are exuding at the moment but that's easier said than done. I don't have any of the equipment here that I would need for a procedure of this kind of delicacy."  
  
Buck followed her into the examination room and found her rummaging through the books that she had on the shelf, as if searching for an answer in the volumes before her. Buck really hoped there was. The sight of all those women out there, all clamoring for a piece of him might have been someone's idea of a fantasy but the reality of it was quite frightening. "You gotta do something." He said standing right next to her, looking over her shoulder as she studied the book in her hands. "I can't be fighting of all those women! Besides, some of them have husbands! They ain't going believe for a minute that I ain't tomcatting around with all their wives."  
  
Alex closed the book, slamming it shut so loudly that it made Buck jump. She let it drop out of her hands and it fell heavy to the ground, landing on its pages upon reaching the floor. Swinging around, she slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. Buck was too astonished to say a word as Alex's lips met his in a kiss of devastating potency. For a second, he could do nothing but react to the splendor of her mouth on his, kissing him with such brutal passion as her tongue forced his way past his lips. He could feel her hand running through his hair, while the other held onto his neck, pressing her body hard against him. He could feel her passion for him in the softness of her curves and the way her nubile body rubbed up and down his own as her lips took from him everything she wanted. In a brief moment of clarity as Buck Wilmington drowned in the sensation of her, did he understand why Vin Tanner was so completely lost.  
  
Vin.  
  
It was a brief realization but it was more than enough. "Alex!" Buck pushed her away. "Are you crazy!"  
  
"I'm so sorry Buck," she said breathlessly, smiling at him with a dreamy expression that was so far removed from the doctor he knew. "I tried to fight it," she replied coming towards it again. "But I just couldn't! I just want you so badly, I have to have you."  
  
She reached him again, one hand glided over his chest and the other probed further down, molding to the part of his anatomy that could not deny how much he was aroused, no matter what he might be saying to her. "You want me too." She said huskily, her hand caressing the hard muscle of flesh that made him groan slightly.  
  
"Of course I want you!" He exclaimed and forced her hand, her exciting, wonderful hand away from him. "A man would be crazy not to want you but not like this! You said it yourself; it's the pheromone thing that's making you feel like this! Nothing else. You love Vin and its him you want and me he'll gut if I touch you!"  
  
When she started unbuttoning the buttons on her shirt, Buck decided the argument was futile and did the only thing he could in a situation like this.  
  
Run.  


* * *

  
**JD**

 

J.D. did not know what to do.  
  
He was having a nightmare, a terrible nightmare. It was the only way he could explain with any reasonable explanation what was happening to him. J.D. knew that he had gone to sleep last night and Buck, Chris and all his friends had been in the realm of the living. He had not killed them. He could not possibly have even imagine such a thing even though Mary Larabee firmly believed he had been responsible for the deaths of Chris and the others. He had almost fled from Mary following the ugly spectacle of their encounter on the street. J.D. had hurried away, half out of his mind from the sheer horror of what he had been told and knew that it had to be true. What he had seen in the eyes of all those around him when he had made his denials, told J.D. the truth. They thought he was lying and knew Mary was not.  
  
He did not know where he was going, not until he found himself on the steps of the church. He had been walking blindly and knew he had to find out what had happened because he could not go stumbling around town until someone else came up to him with the same kind of anger Mary Travis had displayed. As he walked through the streets, he realized that the looks of respect that the townsfolk had been giving him all day was not respect at all, it was a darker emotion.  
  
Fear.  
  
They were looking at him with fear.  
  
His heart was pounding so loud at this realization that he was surprised no one else could hear it his breast. J.D. swept past the shops, driving himself past their accusatory glares because he knew they were all staring at him like he was some kind of murderer. If it was true, if he was truly what they suspected him to be, how could J.D. live with that knowledge. It was like looking into a box hidden in one's own heart and discovering that a monster had been in existence there all this time. Only a monster could have handed Vin to bounty hunters, allowing the tracker to be taken back to Tuscosa and then hanged for a murder he had been innocent of committing. The same monster who would eventually win a gun battle with Chris Larabee and drive Buck Wilmington to take his life from sheer despair.  
  
He looked at the watch still clutched in his hand and wanted to throw it away but could not bring himself to do it because it belonged to Buck. Whatever this twisted dream might have caused J.D. to be the instrument of Buck's death, he still remembered Buck as his friend and protector, who ensured that he be accepted as part of the seven and guarded for the time it took for him to become his own man. Buck had given that all to him and to imagine that he had been the reason Buck Wilmington had put a gun to his head was more than J.D. could stomach.  
  
He wanted to scream in protest that this was all wrong but he could not even do that much because the horror what was before him could not be denied even with the memories in his mind.  
  
Suddenly, J.D. noticed Josiah's church in the far end of the street. It looked greatly improved from the last time he had seen it, so far as to having a fresh coat of paint and a new coat. For a moment, J.D. contemplated going in, almost fearful of what he would find inside. After the news about Chris, Vin and Buck, J.D. was reluctant to know what horror he had visited upon those close companions, he was afraid to learn how Josiah and the others had fared. Fearfully, he moved past the wooden doors and entered the main body of the building.  
  
Despite the new wooden pews, the greatly restored altars and bright red carpet that ran through the main aisle of congregation hall, J.D. could still see the familiar features of the church he knew as he entered further inside the building. As a place of worship, it looked very much like the place that Josiah had envisioned it to be and J.D. marveled at the amount of work that it must have taken to see that dream realized. No one was present as he walked down the aisle, even though the church was pretty much open to everyone with the candles flickering near the altar and the crucibles for holy water filled to the brim.  
  
J.D. looked at the cross before him and uttered a silent pray that he might wake up from this terrible dream. It was one thing wishing for a dream where he could be the kind of gunslinger that he used to read about in books but to have it realized at the cost of everything else, was something he had never hoped to endure. He had evolved into a creature that did not see such glory and fame worth the price of all the friends that meant the world to him. Apart of him would always wish for some semblance of those childhood dreams but the rest of him had become happy with what he had and was content to have people in his life rather than foolishness of glory.  
  
"Is it my turn now J.D.?" Josiah's familiar voice boomed behind him.  
  
J.D. let out a sigh of relief that was secret in his chest all this time. Turning around quickly, he saw Josiah looking as alive as the last time he saw him, with no discernible ill effects. J.D. was so happy to see the preacher alive and well that he had not heard the words spoken to him.  
  
"Josiah, thank God you're alive!" J.D. exclaimed and took a step towards the man. "Everything has gone crazy! I don't know what's happening! Please I know what everyone thinks I've done but I swear to you I didn't kill Chris and the others!"  
  
Josiah held his ground and stared at J.D. with hard eyes. "You have an extensive list of sins young man," he said with that deep voice of his. "Do not compound your crimes by lying in the house of God. Even I must draw the line somewhere."  
  
J.D. froze in mid step and felt his heart sink with dismay because Josiah did not believe him. Why should he? If everyone else believed he was the murderer they claimed him to be, why should Josiah be any different. He was asking trust of a man, whose friends J.D. had gunned down to reach the fame and glory of being the best that he had dreamed of in his youth. J.D. swallowed hard and felt the fight dissipate from him. "I guess I shouldn't expect you to believe me." He said quietly, moving off the carpet and finding himself a seat the nearest pew.  
  
"What do you want?" Josiah asked, with no affection in his tone.  
  
"I didn't know where else to go." J.D. said honestly. "I woke up this morning and everything had changed." He spoke like a small child making a confession and considering it was Josiah before him, J.D. thought it was somewhat appropriate. "I remember playing cards with you and Ezra yesterday, Vin had gone to Sweet Water and came back smelling like a girl. Chris, Buck and Nathan were keeping an eye on Sid at the jailhouse. Everyone was still around."  
  
Josiah said nothing for a moment, trying to see some deception in J.D.'s manner but could find no evidence of it. For an instance, he looked once again like the young man who had once asked him how to court Casey Wells not the stone killer they had come to know in later years. "It has not been like that for a long time J.D." Josiah admitted after a long while. "Chris and Vin are dead by your hand. Buck took his own life but you might as well have pulled the trigger. Ezra was smart, he knew what was coming so he and Julia left. With Vin gone, Alex saw no reason to stay in Four Corners so she went too and asked Inez to come along. Inez agreed because she didn't have much a choice with the baby."  
  
"The baby?" J.D. looked up in surprise. What baby?  
  
"She was pregnant when Buck died, she never had the chance to tell him." Josiah said grimly. "Last letter I got from her was from somewhere in Canada."  
  
"A baby." J.D. closed his eyes, too filled with anguish to say much else. Buck killed himself, not knowing that he had a child on the way. Did this get any worse? "What about Nathan?" J.D. asked, almost moved to the point of tears. "Please don't say I hurt him too."  
  
"No you didn't hurt him." Josiah retorted, unable to understand what game J.D. was playing and battling with his own conscience because the young man before him did not appear to be a ruthless killer. Far from it in fact, he looked like someone had seen something terrible within himself and had no idea how to stomach anything that he had done. "Nathan left Four Corners when Alex took off. He got married to Rain and they live up at the Seminole village now."  
  
At least that was something, J.D. decided.  
  
He buried his face in his hands, hoping that in this house of God, some sense would come of what he had experienced this morning. However, there was no answer here, not when Josiah was staring him down like the scum he must have surely been for the crimes he could not remember but must have committed for the preacher to look at him with such anger. J.D. rose to his feet and met Josiah's gaze. "I don't remember anything I did Josiah." He said earnestly. "Not one bit of it. I woke up this morning and everything was like it is now. I don't remember killing Chris, I don't remember giving Vin over to any bounty hunter. I can't say anything to make you believe me except that I'm sorry. I always wanted to the best but not like this."  
  
With that, J.D. walked out of the church, leaving Josiah behind to stare at the young man in confusion because like J.D., he had no idea what was going on.  
  
J.D. stepped out into the sunshine thinking that nothing could be worse than the encounter with Mary and realized how wrong he was in light of what he had discovered about the others from Josiah. At least the preacher was still alive and his other self, the one who had been responsible for all this death had apparently decided to leave Josiah alone. J.D. supposed that was some small comfort even though he could not forget how Josiah had looked at him. There was no trace of the friend he had once known, just a stranger who blamed him for a great deal more than he remembered.  
  
The young man left the church behind him, deciding the jailhouse was probably the only refuge left to him since the Silver Star on his chest had not disappeared and he still the sheriff in town. Perhaps when he sat down and took a moment to breathe, he might work out what he was going to do. At present he was still too shocked by everything he had learnt today. There were names that Josiah had not mentioned, like Casey and Nettie Wells. What had happened to Casey? He prayed he had not done something worse to the girl he loved so much. The man who would kill Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner was capable of far worse and J.D. did not want to know what that could be.  
  
Suddenly, he heard the thunder of riders coming down the street. J.D. saw four men, riding hard towards the jailhouse. Reaching the building, they dismounted their horses and J.D. was able to get a closer look at them. He recognized none of the men but decided they looked mean and nasty which gave the young man some concern as he approached them. There was never any question in his mind about not advancing but in his state of mind today, caution was the last thing on his mind. They spotted him almost as soon as he made the decision to face them and took note of the way their eyes followed him as he neared.  
  
People on the street immediately seemed to fade behind doors, disappearing into the background like they always seem to do when trouble was brewing. J.D. instinctively dropped his hand to his gun even though he felt some measure of fear pounding inside his chest. For the first time in his life, he would be facing four men alone, to kill them if that was their plan for him, without the aid of Buck and the others. It would almost be poetic if these four strangers killed him. At least, that was something J.D. could stomach.  
  
"Can I do something for you?" J.D. asked, almost wishing that they kill him. He had nothing to lose now.  
  
"We're looking for the Sheriff." The leader, a man in a black duster not unlike Chris Larabee's retorted, even though he possessed none of the presence of the gunslinger.  
  
"Look no further," J.D. said coldly. "You found him."  
  
"You're just a kid!" The man to the left of the leader exclaimed, spitting tobacco following that statement.  
  
"So they tell me." The young man responded. "You going to stand there looking at me with slack jaws or you're gonna tell me what you want?"  
  
"You remember Jonah Carlisle?" The leader demanded, glaring at J.D. as he asked that question.  
  
"Should I?" J.D. replied, deciding that he was not even going to bother denying anything any more.  
  
"You ought to," the man growled back. "You killed him."  
  
"Can't place him." J.D. answered, his fingers poised over his gun. "But I'll take your word for it."  
  
"You can take my word for it that I'm gonna kill you boy." He sneered.  
  
At this point, J.D. hardly cared. If he had been responsible for the death of everyone he cared about then he preferred it this way.  


* * *

_**NATHAN** _

  
Nathan sat next to Zeus, one of the few trusted slaves in Serfonteine's plantation at Avalon who was allowed to go into town on his own. This was partly due to the fact that Zeus was almost seventy years old and far past the days when escape was anything he dreamed about. Nathan tried to remember what he could about the man, knowing only that Zeus had not been born in America and were one of the few slaves who had been born free from far away Africa. It was said that when he first arrived on the plantation, when Mr Serfonteine's father had bought him, he could not speak a word of English and often sought to escape during his earliest years. It had taken fifty years to turn a free man into the bonded slave that he was now, silent and complacent, saying very little to Nathan as they made their way to Reidsville.  
  
Periodically, Nathan would glance over his shoulder at the grey canvas that covered the back of the wagon, hoping that what remained hidden beneath it would go unnoticed until their journey back to the plantation. When the sun had finally set on the day and the blackness of twilight had covered the land in darkness again, only then could Nathan make his desperate plan of escape work. He prayed that everything would work out the way he remembered with the only difference being that Rebecca would accompany him on the exhaustive journey ahead. He could not endure the knowledge of what would befall her tonight if she returned to Avalon even if this escape attempt failed and they were both made to suffer dearly for the actions.  
  
At the moment, escape was impossible with the sun high in the morning sky. By the time they reached town it would be noon and Nathan hoped their business in town would take long enough for it to be early evening when they started home. Once it was dark, Nathan and Rebecca's chances of escape would improve significantly from what it would be had they attempt to make their bid for flight during the day. The only obstacle that remained in their way was Zeus but Nathan was pretty sure he could knock the old man out without hurting him too badly. Unfortunately such a violent departure was the only way Nathan could ensure that Zeus would not suffer any repercussions from the master for their actions. Knowing how brutal Serfonteine could be, Nathan was unwilling to risk the man's life for their sins.  
  
To keep Zeus from noticing anything strange, Nathan decided to make conversation, hoping that he would be oblivious to all until it was time for Nathan and Rebecca to make their escape. Until this point, Nathan had never really had much to do with the former African, although he did wonder what it must have been like to be born free, to know where he had come from or having the knowledge of ancestors far in the distance past.  
  
"Do you remember much about being free Zeus?" Nathan asked.  
  
Zeus was a dignified man, his dark curly hair had become snow white but he retained his height and his authority and dignity was always present. Every other slave respected Zeus even though he said little and most of the time kept counsel to himself. He turned to Nathan with a peculiar look as if he were regarding the youth for the first time.  
  
"Who told you I was born free?" He asked. Even his voice did not sound the same as the other slaves. There was an accent to it that was unfamiliar and exotic.  
  
"I hear things." Nathan answered. It was the truth, he had heard about Zeus' past that way.  
  
"You see a lot of things too don't you, Ajax?" Zeus stared at him with an expression in his eyes that did not seem old or feeble but as sharp as any man Nathan had ever known. In that moment, Zeus' hard penetrating gaze reminded him a little of Chris Larabee's. "You see a lot but you pretend to know nothing."  
  
"Ain't it safer that way?" Nathan returned his gaze with a look of his own.  
  
"After 50 years, I've learned so." Zeus retorted and kept his eyes on the track ahead. There was no one else on the road as the wagon continued forward and thick trees surrounded them on either side. The day was hot and Nathan felt for Rebecca who was hidden underneath the canvas covering, hoping that the balmy heat was not too insufferable for her.  
  
"So what was it like, being free." Nathan asked again, since Zeus had manage to evade the question earlier.  
  
"Nothing like it." The man replied, his voice a little softer than normal. "You walk where you want to walk, you stop if you want to and you sleep if you're tired."  
  
Nathan could see Zeus' eyes clouding over as he was returned to the past of his youth. To a place where he had been a boy child running across hot savanna plains, hunting game in the tall grass, watching and listening to sounds completely alien to the one he had lived for almost half a century. Its beauty reflected in the longing Nathan saw in the older man's face, still as clear and vivid as the day he had manacled and torn from his home in what must have seemed like a different life time ago.  
  
"It must be good knowing where you come from." Nathan remarked.  
  
"I know it all." Zeus said firmly, as if he had locked everything he had been in a fortress deep inside himself where it could remain impenetrable to the master and men like him. "I remember my father's tribe and the stories of his youth. I know where my tribe goes during the wet and what they do for water during the dry. It is inside me and part of who I am and the master cannot take that from me."  
  
"My name is Nathan." Nathan found himself confessing. "They call me Ajax but my father gave me the name because Nathan means 'gift' because my mama always said that a child was a gift unto the world black or white. My family name is Jackson. My pa says that his grandfather was called Jackson and that's how we got a family name, so we'd always knew where we started from."  
  
"It is good to know where you come from." Zeus said understanding completely. "You hang onto that Nathan because some day, things will change and you can speak it openly."  
  
"Things will change sooner than we know." Nathan replied, not intending to speak of the war that was coming but felt he could trust Zeus for some reason. "There is a storm coming Zeus. A war that will change everything in our world."  
  
"I hear the talk." Zeus agreed. "Sometimes, when I'm driving the carriage for Master Serfonteine, I hear them talking about war and abolitionists. How they want to free us slaves up in the north."  
  
"It will happen." Nathan said firmly because he had seen it. He had seen the blood spilled in the war that was fought between the states where friends found themselves divided because a change of map had decree that they were enemies. He saw the south struggle to keep itself entrenched in the old ways while the north brought progress with the aid of artillery and fire.  
  
Zeus did not ask him to elaborate but said something just as surprising. "Is that why you and the girl are fixing to run?"  
  
Nathan froze. He had hoped that he had provided enough of a distraction earlier on for Rebecca to slip onto the wagon unnoticed but had not evidently been as successful as he had thought. "I don't know what you mean." He tried to lie even though he was certain Zeus was perfectly aware of the truth.  
  
"I seen in her the back Nathan." Zeus said as if he was bored by the whole concept of denial. "Now you plan on killing me when you run?"  
  
"No!" Nathan exclaimed, horrified by the idea. "I was going hit you to knock you out but only so the master won't think you let us get away."  
  
"It's a dangerous thing you plan on doing." Zeus pointed. "As someone whose tried and failed, I'm telling you the master will punish you bad if you're caught."  
  
"We can't stay," Nathan said firmly, steeling himself to attack if Zeus chose to turn them in. "Tonight he comes for Becky and I know he'll do more than just take her." He did not want to have to say that Serfonteine would beat her so badly that Rebecca would die, when she was so close to hearing their conversation.  
  
"It's the way things are." Zeus said grimly, his lips a thin line of distaste because he knew what it was like to feel the anguish that Nathan must be feeling, to watch a loved being used in such a personal and demeaning way, only to be discarded when the deed was done.  
  
"To hell with the way things are!" Nathan snapped, feeling his anger boil at the acceptance of another man's brutality simply because the colour of one's skin was different. It was not fair! "I can stand the whipping, the way we're worked to death like dogs, I can even stand that we ain't got no choice with where our children go or the fact that we ain't no more rights over them, then a cat does over her little but this is different! It ain't right to force yourself on a girl no matter what colour her skin! Damn, she's just a child for Lord's sake!"  
  
"I hear you but the evil done to her body can be forgotten, death cannot." Zeus tried to convince the youth even though it was impossible and they both knew it.  
  
Nathan had to convince Zeus. Now that the old man knew about Rebecca, his assistance was absolutely essential. He had to cooperate or else Nathan would be forced to take extreme measures and the future healer was prepared to do that to save his sister. He would not be proud of himself after doing it but remembering the image of Rebecca in his arms, all bloody and bruises after Serfonteine was done with her was enough to make him commit any act of savagery. He had not meant for Rebecca to hear this but he had no choice, he had to reach Zeus somehow.  
  
"If I told you that Serfonteine would kill my Becky because his idea of pleasuring himself with a woman is to beat her so bad that she'd bleed to death, would that make you understand why we have to go?"  
  
An audible gasp escaped the canvas where Rebecca had heard and Nathan closed his eyes, wishing he had not been forced to reveal that particular truth.  
  
"You don't know that." Zeus retorted.  
  
"Yes I do." Nathan swallowed hard. "The same way I know that three months from now, there will be war between the north and the south. It will go on for five years and the south will fall and we will be free at last. All of us except my Becky because she would have died tonight." He met Zeus' eyes with a secret plea for help. "I need you to turn the other way Zeus and let us go. I don't want to hurt you but to save my sister from the Master, I'm willing to do anything."  
  
Zeus looked at the young man before him, wondering if Nathan had not gone quite mad but the belief in his eyes at what he said made Zeus reach deep within him own heart to make a leap of faith in the impossible. "You really believe what you're saying don't you?"  
  
"I do." He nodded.  
  
Zeus did not answer and Nathan took his silence to mean that the old man was contemplating his request and thus Nathan did not push for an answer at the present time. He understood what it was he was asking of Zeus and knew that it was no light request. Even if Nathan did knock Zeus out and promoted the fantasy that Zeus had not let them go willingly, there was nothing to say that Serfonteine would not punish him just out of anger and a desire to take his vengeance out on someone. Zeus was not a young man and his ability to take corporal punishment was not what it was. In any case, it was a big thing to ask of any man and Nathan could understand if Zeus refused just as he hoped Zeus would realize what that would mean if he did.  
  
Reidsville was like any other southern town in Georgia and when two black slaves made their entrance into town, whether or not it was permissible, there was always white folk keeping a close eye on them. Nathan stayed close to Zeus, knowing that the residents of the town would be used to seeing the old man out on his own from previous errands that he would have run for the master.  
  
Meanwhile, Zeus kept silent, keeping Nathan on tenterhooks as they carried the list of tasks that needed doing. Their day saw them visiting several places in town, getting supplies from the hardware, grain and general stores. All of it was loaded into the back of the wagon, where Rebecca remained safely out of sight.  
  
It was permissible for Zeus to be out on his own and even tolerable that he should have an assistant in Nathan but for Rebecca to be out in the open would immediately rouse suspicion and they could not afford that while the sun was still out. As it was, Rebecca had avoided going to the house by telling Milly, another house slave that she was required to accompany Mrs. Serfonteine to the Lamont residence. Mrs. Serfonteine was due to be gone for most of the day so it would be awhile before Rebecca's disappearance was discovered. Nathan hoped to be well on their way before the Master could organize a search party to go looking for them. With any luck, Serfonteine would wait until after Zeus had returned with Nathan so that he could be questioned on his sister's whereabouts before proceeding on the search.  
  
The sun was starting to set in the horizon when the wagon finally left Reidsville and began its long journey towards Avalon once again. Zeus had still not given him an answer and Nathan was starting to get worried that the man might have changed his mind about helping them. They were almost an hour into the journey when Zeus finally turned to him. The old man had brought the wagon to a stand still near a particularly remote track of road flanked by a dense growth with the sounds of a river rushing somewhere in the distance.  
  
"Get out." He told Nathan. "You too Rebecca."  
  
As Nathan climbed off the wagon, Rebecca emerged from her hiding place under the canvas. Zeus did the same thing and peeked under the canvas to the supplies stored in the back tray. He rummaged through the content before surfacing a moment later with a bundle of stores they would need on their journey, including a rather heavy horse shoe that had rusted and been discarded in the back for some time.  
  
"This will last you for a few days," he said handing the bundle that contained some bread and dried meat. "Stick to the river, the dogs won't pick up the scent and move by night. Less people see you that way."  
  
"Thank you." Rebecca said embracing Zeus hard for the kindness he was bestowing upon them. This would severely upset his privileged standing with the Master and she hoped Zeus would not suffer too much for this. "How can we thank you?"  
  
Zeus tried not to smile but he knew of her sunny disposition and could well understand why her brother would do anything to protect her. "I don't know whether I'm doing the right thing by you. I ain't doing you no kindness if you're caught."  
  
"Thank you, Zeus." Nathan said genuinely appreciative of the advice and the stores. "We'll never forget you."  
  
"Well don't be so quick to leave," he handed the horseshoe and turned his back to Nathan. "You know what to do."  
  
Nathan nodded and took a deep breath. "I reckon I do."  
  
"I'm stronger than I look," Zeus explained. "You put enough of a dent in my head and I can tell the master I was knocked out for some time, maybe I can throw them off your trail a little."  
  
"Don't go doing more than you got to," Nathan said. "You done enough for us."  
  
"Don't you worry," Zeus said quickly. "There ain't much more he could do to me and I'd be happy knowing your sister is away from him."  
  
Nathan nodded in understanding and swung hard. He slammed the piece of metal against the back of the man's head. Zeus let out single gasp of pain before he dropped to his knees and collapsed on the side of the road. Nathan quickly went to examine him, hoping that he had not hurt Zeus too badly. There was a sizeable lump on his back of his head and a little bit of blood where the skin was broken. Zeus would be out for no more than a few minutes and the bruise would lent support to Zeus' story. Lifting the old man, he placed Zeus back in the wagon before joining Rebecca who was hiding in the safety of the thick wood.  
  
"Come on," he said taking her hand as they started the long journey to Kentucky where salvation awaited in the form of a preacher who had a little trouble turning the other cheek and went by the name of Josiah Sanchez.

************  
  
_**INEZ**_

 

Inez finally dared to climb out of bed when her mother was gone.  
  
She did not know what was happening but she knew she did not like it. While she liked the idea of being home again, of having everything that had happened in her life since Don Paulo's son took an interest in her, erased from existence, she knew that this was not how it should be. Without Paloma's presence, she was able to make careful examination of her room, unhindered by worrying how it would look to her mother. As she scoured through her belongings and studied the trinkets that branded this place as her own, Inez knew without doubt, she was exactly where she appeared to be, at home.  
  
Paloma had gone off to work in the Don's house with Calla and Inez was grateful for the solitude. The sultry bar maid still had no idea how she had come to be home, despite her mother's insistence that she had never been away. Yet the memory of all that had transpired since the night of the festival was clearer in her mind than the reality her mother claimed was real. However, it was not simply that she had lost the friends acquired since her departure or the life she had made for herself in Four Corners that bothered her most but the child she had been carrying inside her body for some weeks now.  
  
Even though her mother claimed she had never been to Four Corners to conceive the baby, Inez could still feel its loss permeating through every corner of her being. Her insides felt empty after the constant worry she had felt over its existence. When Inez thought of all those nights when she had lain awake in her bed, trying to decide what to do only to have it mysteriously vanish this way, she found that there was no joy to be had in that. With shame, she realized that however this had happened, impossible as it was, she had been the direct cause of it. Did she not in her darkest hours of despair wish the innocent babe within her gone?  
  
Well now it was gone and she wanted it back.  
  
She wanted it back so badly she could not imagine how she could have wished it gone in the first place. It was not just her child but Buck's as well and while in comparison, the child she had carried was probably more mature than its father, Inez felt as if she had stolen his right to know with the wish that had allowed this to happen. At this moment, Inez would have given anything to have this child back even if it meant finding Buck in Four Corners and doing it the old fashioned way. In any case, she could no longer remain here.  
  
This town was apart of a past that should have been left behind. She did not know how she had come to be here but she knew she could not stay. Whether or not it was a fool's hope to return to Four Corners, to seek out the people she cared about even if they had no idea of who she was, Inez knew she had to try. Even now, she found herself missing Mary Travis and the privilege of knowing the widow was not something she would trade for anything. Sure becoming acquainted with Mary had brought her more grief that humanly possible since the widow attracted trouble with more ease than any person Inez had ever met, but it did keep her life somewhat interesting. From burning down old decrepit mansions, running for dear life from mad cultists who were determined to shake the walls of heaven and earth, not to mention blowing up the occasional bank or hiding out in a brothel, Mary had always kept things exciting.  
  
Inez never realized how much she valued their friendship until it was gone, or in this case, never been. She looked around her room, her gaze taking in the sight of her room and made the decision to leave at dawn the next morning.  
  
Although she was eager to return to her old life, she wanted to spend some time with her mother and sister. Inez made a note to herself that if she ever woke from this insane dream that she found herself, perhaps a visit to home be in order.  
  
Stepping out of her bedroom, Inez moved through the rest of the house that she shared with her mother and sister, Calla. Theirs had been one of the few homes in town that was made of real brick and mortars not the mud huts occupied by the rest of the villagers. Her father had served with Don Paulo in the war and the house had been a gift in appreciation of their service together. Later on, when he passed on, Paloma had been convinced that the reason why so many men had asked for her hand was so that they could get the house.  
  
Inez left behind the nostalgia of being home for the moment and ventured out into the village, wondering if anything had changed in the past two years of her absence, although as far as any one was concerned, she had never really left.  
  
She made her way down the winding track that led into the heart of town, passing by Rosita Alvarez, the old woman who always sat on her front step, smiling at anyone who passed by with her toothless grin. No one even guessed how old Rosita was any more but the town would not be the same if she was not sitting in the front step.  
  
Inez waved at the old woman as she walked by, marveling in all the sights of home that would have been common place once upon a time. She saw the square where the children played their games, giggling and chattering as she and Calla had when they were young. The heat of sun made her squint as she examined the familiar surroundings and Inez realized just how much she missed being apart of this world, even though she had felt it to be a place in her past.  
  
"Hello Inez." She heard a voice behind her.  
  
Inez looked over her shoulder and to her shock, saw it to be Raphael. Raphael was one of Don Paulo's hired guns. Like her father, he had served with the Don and had taken up residence in town after the end of the war. For Inez, it was hard to look at him and not feel pensive, after all she remembered him as the man who had aided the Don's son in his relentless pursuit of her across the border. However, Raphael had always been a man of honour as he had so proved when he had saved her life and Buck's after the duel.  
  
"Raphael." She greeted, trying not to sound apprehensive at the sight of him..  
  
"You are feeling better?" He said as he fell into step beside her. "Your mother said that you are not well, that perhaps you were with fever."  
  
"No," she shook her head in response. "I was not feeling well but it was nothing as serious as all that. I just needed to rest a little."  
  
"A breath of fresh air always helps." He smiled at her and Inez was somewhat surprised at how different Raphael looked when he was not wearing the somber expression he often did when riding with the Don or the rest of the men in his employ.  
  
"I have a confession to make," Inez replied, "I'm feeling better but I don't feel like working today." She flashed him a look tinged with a little guilt.  
  
"I think we all have days where we just want to disappear somewhere." Raphael answered, his smile settling back into a casual manner that Inez had never noticed before. Before the ugly incident with Don Paolo, she had often seen him around the main house. He always seemed distant and solitary, a far cry from Guillermo and the other men that worked for the Don. He was a source of much speculation to the women of the village, who saw him as one of the most eligible men in town. Inez had to confess to never being one of those but now that she thought about it, she felt a certain level of curiosity about him.  
  
"Where do you disappear to?" She asked.  
  
"Out there," he looked towards the horizon beyond the village. "Where it is quiet and a man can just become lost in all that space."  
  
"That sounds nice." Inez sighed, following his gaze as they both walked through the heart of town, neither appearing to have any particular destination. "There's a big world outside this place. I think I would like to see some of it."  
  
"No dreams of being a good wife and mother?" He teased slightly.  
  
Inez laughed, unable to blame him for such assumptions because traditionally that was the ultimate goal of most women in town, to snare themselves a husband and raise a household of children. "Not at this moment." She replied, even though she knew it was a little bit of a lie because she wanted dearly to have back the child she and Buck had conceived.  
  
"I noticed," Raphael admitted after a long pause, unable to deny that he had always been attracted to Inez. She was without doubt the most stunning woman in the village but she had no concept of using that beauty to better her situation. Women like that were to be admired because they had virtue and strength of character that elevated them beyond the ordinary. "You do not seem to me the kind that likes the quiet."  
  
Inez found herself blushing under the penetrating gaze of his dark eyes. It was so easy to see why the rest of the village's female population was so enamored when he looked at her so. He was very compelling and it pained her to think that in the reality she remembered, his devotion to honour would make him a hunted man. However, Raphael had wanted to find his own path after the death of Paulo's son and leaving Four Corners seemed like the best way to do that even though Inez always had the impression that Chris Larabee would have liked him to remain.  
  
"I do not wish to be living a life fraught with constant danger either," she found it necessary to point out after a few second of reflection. After all, is that not what her life had been since arriving in Four Corners? She had known the worst of men and she had also known the best of them from that little town in the heart of the Territory. Her rape surfaced most acutely then and Inez felt a slight shiver of cold running through her spine as the memory of that terrible day flashed in her mind. "Perhaps a little bit of excitement every now and then would make me appreciate the boring days."  
  
"I cannot offer much in the way of excitement," Raphael said turning to her. "However, would you like to go for a ride?"  
  
Inez did not know what to say for a moment, staring blankly at him because the offer was so unexpected. It never occurred to her that his interest was that way inclined. Inez had always thought Raphael was merely being polite, not at all motivated by some deeper emotion. Her first impulse was to refuse him but as she gazed into his eyes and saw that it had taken a lot of soul searching for him to make the request of her, she found that she could not.  
  
"Yes," Inez found herself agreeing and hope she knew what she was doing. "I'd like that very much Raphael."  
  
God, she really hoped she knew what she was doing.  


* * *

_**JOSIAH** _

  
Josiah tried to remember the conversation.  
  
He had found himself a secluded corner of the greenery surrounding the church so that he could gather his thoughts and decipher the clues left behind in his memory. It was a long shot, he knew that. However, for the moment, it was the only explanation he had of how this could have happened and he had to focus his mind as he had never done before. As a man of the cloth, it had always been a contradiction that Josiah believed in neither magic nor fairy tales when the entire course of his life was based on the absolute faith of what could not be seen. Yet he had learn in recent years that there were things unseen that were very real indeed.  
  
In the incident that none of the seven would discuss openly, they all remembered Darien Lambert who had come across time from the future to save the human race from genocide. Like others, Josiah had seen the mechanical monster that had sought to end Chris Larabee's life. If that alone was not proof of greater things beyond their understanding, nothing was. This was not so hard to believe even he was basing his entire theory on how he had come to be a preacher on the strength of one conversation. Until the thought had crossed his mind only a short time ago, Josiah would not have given the conversation second thought but the fact was, it seemed to be the only explanation for what had taken place. .  
  
It had been his watch at the jailhouse and rather then spend the entire day indoors, when it was perfectly beautiful day outside, Josiah had opted to sit out in the sun, reading a good book with his feet up. Josiah was lost in the adventures of Don Quixote when he saw Billy Travis crossing the street, headed towards the jailhouse. At first, the preacher had believed Billy had come in search of Chris since the gunslinger was now the boy's stepfather, although Billy still called Chris by name. Josiah had a feeling that was probably at Chris' behest rather than Billy's.  
  
He had grown an inch or two since his last visit to Four Corners and Josiah felt inordinately old that time was passing so quickly when the youth before him seemed to transforming before his very eyes. Billy approached the preacher with purpose and immediately inspired Josiah's curiosity at what could possibly make an eight-year-old so serious about anything. Of course, Billy was not a normal eight-year-old child. Billy had seen more than any child his age ought to have given witness to, what with seeing his father killed and later on, keeping the burden of that guilt inside his heart for so long. It had made him grow up faster than he should have and it was evidenced in his eyes which seemed old by normal standards.  
  
"Josiah, can I talk to you?" He asked upon reaching the preacher turned lawmen.  
  
"Certainly," Josiah answered, properly intrigued. "Why don't you pull up a chair?"  
  
Billy nodded and pulled the chair that was almost the same size as him next to Josiah as if what was to be discussed was extremely important and could not be held lightly. After sitting down and getting comfortable, Billy turned to the preacher once more and said in a very quiet voice, as if he was afraid of anyone paying attention. "Josiah do you believe in magic?"  
  
Josiah tried to hide his surprise because he had expected the subject to be of a spiritual nature and to some extent important enough on an adult level because of the manner in which Billy had conducted himself until this moment. "It depends," he said neutrally. "There are many different kinds of magic. Some men say that looking into the eyes of a good woman is magic, while other believe there is magic in seeing the stars twinkle."  
  
"I mean real magic." The boy said impatiently. "You know," he looked around to see if anyone was about before he revealed any more. "Like with witches and stuff."  
  
"Oh that kind of magic." Josiah nodded in understanding. "Well, I don't know." He answered, trying not to sound condescending. "I believe there is a lot we do not know about the world. Witches are greatly misunderstood by people. There was a time that any woman who was smarter than she ought to be was immediately branded a witch because she knew things about herbs and medicines."  
  
"My friend Lily says that magic is real and that there are good witches and bad witches." Billy pointed out, wanting clarification on this matter because he attended church on a regular basis, either with his mother or his grandparents and the general consensus had been that witches were agents of evil. Yet his friend Lilith claimed to be a witch and she did not seem to be evil so this only serve to confuse him even more.  
  
"I think she is right." Josiah agreed, wondering how the school mistresses' daughter could have such strange ideas. Of course, Josiah had never met Audrey King himself, even though she had been much talked about during the weeks since she had settled in Four Corners. The woman had high flouting ideas, they said.  
  
Josiah had the impression that the more rigid citizens of Four Corners found Audrey somewhat flamboyant for their tastes. Meanwhile, Julia and Mary had found the woman to be perfectly fascinating. Although if she was somewhat eccentric, it was no wonder she permitted her daughter believe herself to be a witch when a more Christian woman would be sending the child to a nunnery to purge her of such unclean thoughts.  
  
"I think that magic is just magic and a witch is just a witch." Josiah replied, answering Billy's question. "What she uses the magic for makes her good or bad."  
  
Billy sat there in silence for a moment, ruminating on what Josiah had told him. "So it's not a sin if you use magic for something good."  
  
"I don't think so," Josiah remarked, understanding why Billy had come to him about this question. Obviously, the child wanted to know whether or not it was spiritually sound to dabble in such things. Of course the whole thing was nonsense and merely the kinds of fanciful beliefs that made childhood such a time of wonder. There was no harm in the boy believing in such superstition.  
  
Besides, the realities of life would strip him of such innocent marvels when he grew older, Josiah saw no reason to make that happen any sooner than it should. "Nothing is a sin if you believe in your heart you are doing the right thing and harming no one by doing it."  
  
"I ain't gonna harm no one." Billy said with a smile. "I just wanted to know that's all."  
  
He had just wanted to know because he was going to do something, Josiah realized now.  
  
A part the preacher still believed this was a dream. That it could be nothing else. However, the proof lay all around him and even though he had no reason to belief a child's wish had brought about this shift in reality, Josiah had nothing else to go on. His life was far from perfect and here, he was the kind of preacher he always wanted to be. To have a congregation, to be respected by the community and to do the Lord's work with nothing more than unyielding faith to assist him, it was all Josiah ever wanted in his life.  
  
Except he had not done this himself.  
  
He was here because a child had wanted him to have his fondest wish. Josiah understood that now. This place was what he had always wanted and what he now had. Somehow, something had allowed that dream to be a reality. Unfortunately, it was reality that should not have been. How could he appreciate anything here or be the man the flock needed him to be when he had not journey the path that led him here but had been merely thrust into the role. The dreams that were best savoured were the ones accomplished through sheer force of will. It meant nothing when it was simply given. Josiah had not become the preacher he always wanted to be, he had merely been presented the fruits of what might have been.  
  
Josiah wanted his life back. He wanted his friends and the church he had been trying to restore to its former glory. He took pride in the filling of every crack in its pitted walls, in repairing the old pews left to become dilapidated with time. Bringing that place to life with his own hands had been the closest that Josiah had come to feeling fulfilled and he did not want it replaced with this idyllic reality that held no more substance for him than a fading dream he woke up with in the morning. Unfortunately, he had no idea how he was going to change things back to normal.  
  
Josiah was tempted to go find Billy, to make the boy undo what he had done but somehow, instinct told him that was not the answer. Billy had merely brought the wish to the altar. Josiah believed his participation did not extend beyond the desire. The girl child Lilith, with her grand ideas of being a witch was most likely the culprit who had brought Billy's wish to bear and created this fantasy that Josiah now found himself trapped within. It was likely that the others were suffering similar ordeals or pleasures, depending on what their dreams might have been.  
  
Billy, like all children believed that adults had wishes like they did. A horse, a toy, the return of a loved one, these were the scope of a child's imagination.  
  
Unfortunately, adults were another thing entirely. Their dreams were darker, more potent and experience clouded the sheer honesty of a child's wish with neurosis and traumas gathered from a lifetime of existence. Without even knowing what the others were dreaming about, Josiah knew he had to free them as much as he needed to free himself. For if the world he now found himself appeared seemingly pleasant for him, it may not be necessarily so for the others.  
  
The others might be enduring nightmares that he could not possibly imagine.  
  
Realizing this only made Josiah more determined to get a start on finding some way out of this present predicament. As he had already guessed, Billy was not the key to this even though it was his will that had brought this insanity about. It was Lilith King's knowledge that had transformed a simple wish into something terrifying. Perhaps not for Josiah himself but certainly for the others. As he left the calming influence of the scenery around him, Josiah made his way back to his church.  
  
He had to think of this logically if he was to be any help to his friends. If Josiah was to assume that he had never strayed from the path and kept faith with the life that he had chosen for himself, then he would never have taken that trip to the north almost fifteen years ago. His stomach hollowed at the thought because the ramifications of that had more far reaching consequences then he realized. If he did not take the trip north, then he would not have found Nathan Jackson, half-dead from his master's whip and exhausted from an escape attempt. Nathan would have died where he had fallen, ravaged by fever until he was killed by the sickness or the master who found him.  
  
If Nathan died fifteen years ago then Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner would have never saved him from a lynching and the seven would cease to be. All the lives and people they had helped would evaporate as surely as if Josiah had put a bullet to their heads and pulled the trigger. Josiah felt his throat dry from the enormity of that realization. Somehow, all that had to take place again or Josiah would never again know peace.  
  
Somehow, he had to find Lilith King.  



	5. Reality Bends

_**CHRIS**_  
  
  
Even before he saw the amber glow in the sky from the distance, Chris Larabee could smell the smoke. It ashy stench drifted through the trees, snaking across the land like tendrils of foreboding, the nearer he reached home. It was not unlike the smell that would beckon him the next day, when the fire had died and all hope had disappeared with it. As Chris and Buck continued at breakneck speed for the homestead where Sarah and Adam awaited rescue, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest because he knew that if he made it at all, it was going to be by the narrowest margin of time.  
  
The night was beautiful and clear and as Chris and Buck reached the final leg of their journey, the splendor of twilight only seemed to mock them in its amplification of the violence taking place in the beyond that was close enough to see. Chris could see the glow of the house amidst the trees surrounding the perimeter of the main house. Like a pyre, the flames stretched into the night, illuminating the indigo sky with amber waves of heat and embers that drifted with the wind like fireflies dancing. The house sat at the bottom of the hill and as Chris and Buck looked down at the fire raging against the canvas of iridescent blue, it could almost have been considered beautiful.  
  
If not for the screaming.  
  
"Sarah!" Chris almost screamed back when he heard it and dug his spurs into his horse, sending the animal into a bray of pain before it rushed forward, leaving Buck behind.  
  
"Chris wait!" Buck shouted after his friend, understanding how much that terrified scream would wrench his senses if it was his wife too but in his desperation to reach Sarah, Chris had forgotten about the men who were responsible for this, men who were still in the area. Unfortunately, Chris was beyond hearing as he and his horse thundered through forward determined to reach the property at any costs.  
  
"Shit!" Buck swore and had little choice but to follow him, praying that whatever that lay waiting once they reached the flaming house was within their ability to handle. However, even Buck had to confess that the terror in those screams growing louder they nearer they reached the house was enough to drive any man insane. He felt his insides clench with fury, aware as Chris must have surely known the moment he had heard them, that those were Sarah's screams. Even Buck started to feel his own restraint slip as he followed Chris through the winding darkness of the track, feeling a darkness permeate his soul as unspeakable evil ran its course through the depths of this night.  
  
"Chris!" He tried to stop his friend's rapid advance but Chris was still riding hard ahead of him. The distance between the house and the track was shortening, they would be on top of the homestead in a matter of seconds and there was nothing to mask their approach. The fire had sent every living thing, other than human, scurrying away for fear of the oldest and most powerful elemental in nature's arsenal. The only sound that could be heard from the forest was the crackling of wood, their eminent approach and the screaming that had become so loud that nothing else seemed to penetrate.  
  
Chris could hear nothing else. He could not hear Buck, trying desperately to warn him of what was awaiting, trying to force him to tread on the side of caution. All Chris could hear was Sarah's cries and what frightened him more than hearing his wife was the fact that his son's voice was strangely silent.  
  
Chris broke through the ring of trees that surrounded the house and the barn. Sarah's screams had descended into shrieks of pure terror as Chris gazed upon the house that she was trapped within, he finally had one of the many questions he had regarding this night as to what her last hours had been.  
  
The roof of the house was completely ablaze. The mere fact that it had not collapsed upon itself was more of a testament to the structure's construction then the intensity of the fire. Inside the glass windows he had specially ordered from town so that Sarah could have her view, he saw her. She was pounding against it, soot covering her terrified face, one fist smashing against the clear glass, begging and pleading for her life. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of him and that centered her thoughts somewhat.  
  
"CHRIS!" She pleaded. "Help us!"  
  
Chris dismounted the house, thinking of nothing else but to get to her in time. The fire had taken the awning on the front porch of the house, snaking down beams and consuming its path to the front door. Despite his urgency to reach Sarah, Chris knew he had to do this right because there was only one chance to save her. The roof was burning away steadily and a minor miracle had taken place because it had yet to crumble upon itself in final destruction. When that happened, it would take his family with it. He ran to the pipe that was in front of the house and immediately started pumping to produce the water needed to fill the bucket before it. The seconds it took for the frothy liquid to emerge seemed like an eternity and Chris scanned the area in the interim, trying to find Fowler and his men who should be still in the area.  
  
The bucket was filled to the brim when Buck Wilmington made his appearance and Chris paid little attention to his best friend because he had other things to deal with. Besides, with Buck here, the man could watch his back in case Fowler and his men decided to come back. The window that Sarah was standing before was surrounded by flames and to get her through it, he would have to put some of it out. Crossing the space between the house and the pump, Chris saw Sarah was holding Adam in her arms as she stared at him, relief flooding into his face at his presence. The smoke inside the house was so thick that it would have been difficult to see her if she had not been standing at the window. With his mind completely focused on reaching Sarah, it never occurred to him why she had been pinned in that one section of the house.  
  
Flinging the content of the bucket as soon as he stepped under the awning, Chris immediately felt his eyes water from the sting of the thick smoke. With horror, he was unable to imagine how Sarah had not succumb to it when it was must have been so much thicker inside the house. The water sizzled as it killed the flames around the windowsill and Chris approached the glass, relieved that he was able to save her, as he had not done so before. Sarah pressed her hand against the glass as he came up to it, with tears running down her face that could not even begin to explain how happy she was to see him. He pressed his own palm against hers, unable to stop staring at her even like this. Then his eyes shifted to Adam whom Sarah was cradling and the smile on his face dissolved immediately.  
  
Sarah had not noticed yet mostly because she had been so intent on letting him know they were here. Adam was lying limp in her arms; his head lolled back and his eyes closed. He was probably still warm from the heat of the fire so Sarah could have been forgiven for the mistake. Chris felt a well of anguish rise from his heart as he realized that for Adam, it was too late. The smoke had claimed him long ago. Chris raised his eyes to meet Sarah's, seeing her face so full of hope drove the need to tell her away for the moment. He had to save her first, then he could tell her about their son.  
  
Chris was about to smash the window when suddenly he heard the sound of a rifle being fired. Immediately, he swung around to the direction of the loud booming noise. Buck who had been filling up another bucket of water to aid him was staring at him with a look of surprise on his face. The big man glanced downwards as the crimson stain in the centre of his chest started extending outwards, creating a wet patch of red across his light coloured shirt. He met Chris' gaze briefly before everything that was Buck drained out of his eyes forever. Chris knew he was dead before he even hit the ground.  
  
"BUCK!" Chris ran forward as Buck collapsed in the dirt. He was no more than two steps away from his friend when he remembered Sarah and cursed himself for a fool. Not caring whether or not Fowler was watching, Chris ran back towards the house. When Buck had been shot, the sound of gunfire had tore through Chris' mind like an echo that would not fade. However, it was nothing in comparison to the sound made when the roof of the Larabee home finally gave in.  
  
There was a final moment after it tore through the air when Sarah stared at him with pure terror in her eyes, knowing that there would be no last minute rescue, no final reprieve or anything for that matter, when time seemed to freeze for Chris. He watched almost unwillingly, as the spine of the main ceiling beam snapped with a loud crack that seemed to fill his mind with nothing else than its resounding waves. He watched in muted horror as the roof caved in, bringing with it death in a descending wall of fire. Her last scream was one of hopelessness and anger at the life that was snatched away within inches of her reach.  
  
"SARAH!" Chris screamed with her before their voices were both drowned out by roar of the fire that did not just kill her but a part of him as well. He dropped to his knees, feeling his heart shatter into a thousand pieces when she screamed no more and he was left with nothing more than the knowledge that he had failed her again. It wrenched his insides with a pain so unbearable that for a few seconds following Sarah's end, he could do nothing but weep in inconsolable sorrow at the loss of her. Losing her the first time had been more than Chris could stand and he never believed that could be any pain worse but now he knew was no limits to what pain could make a man endure.  
  
He almost lunged into the fire after her. For what he had failed to prevent, he should have died too. He staggered to his feet, ready to make the journey into the fire when suddenly, he remembered something else. Chris paused in mid step. Inside himself, the man who remembered marrying Mary Travis slipped away quietly into the mists, disappearing as if he had never been. In his place was a creature that Chris had kept locked up all his life, terrified of releasing for the evil it could do in its berserker rage.  
  
Chris hardly noticed when that door was opened.  
  
Trancelike, he walked past Buck, seeing his friend but the death registered no more than that. He looked into the darkness and he saw the faces just skimming the edge of the trees. He knew why Fowler had not attacked him because Ella had not given him leave to do so. Shooting Buck had been a tactic for delay nothing else. His friend had died so that Chris would be prevented from entering the house and being killed when the room finally caved in as it had just done and sealed the fate of his wife and son.  
  
"Fowler!" Chris shouted loudly because he needed to get the man's attention. "I know you're out there, Fowler You can't hide away this time, I know who you are and I'm coming for you!" Chris said these words as if he were reading them from a book. It too did not register in his mind as anything that he ought to care about, it just needed doing.  
  
Until now, there had been nothing to prove to the law that Cletus Fowler was responsible for the deaths of Sarah and Larabee. All that had led him to the man previously, was one outlaw's word and that had not been enough. Fowler had killed the man to assure his anonymity and Chris was certain that he would do the same to Chris to protect himself, client or not. Chris went to his horse and waited for the eminent arrival of Fowler and his men from under the protection of the trees. He could almost imagine what Fowler was thinking at this moment, that he was easy prey. Grief had made him weak and easy to overcome.  
  
When Fowler and his men finally did emerge, Chris made no move to approach them. He remained by his horse so that they would not have a clear shot to do to him what they had done to Buck. Whomever had shot Buck had done it from a distance and Chris scoured the faces and decided it did not matter which one of them had pulled the trigger on his friend. Nothing mattered any more. There was a numbness inside him that was indescribable and his rage was a singularity in his soul awaiting release at the right moment.  
  
"You were not meant to be here Mr. Larabee." Cletus Fowler said, his men surrounding Chris while he stared at them dispassionately. "It is unfortunate that you were. Give up your guns." The assassin ordered as he stared at Chris from on top of his horse.  
  
Chris tossed both his peacemakers into the dirt, several feet from himself, without hesitation. He was not afraid of anything that happened to him now. Not with Sarah and Adam gone and now Buck as well. Mary was out of his reach and for what he was about to do, it was best that way.  
  
"Step away from the horse." Fowler ordered, seeing something in the gunslinger's eyes that made him nervous. In fact, they all did. Perhaps it was the lack of feeling in those steel coloured eyes, he could not say for certain but the others riding with him were starting to get apprehensive. "Slowly," he added the warning, expecting something but unsure what that might be.  
  
Chris stepped out in front of them and pulled the shotgun he had loaded before their arrival and had kept hidden discreetly. With speed he had always possessed but seldom used, he emptied both shells into the men next to Fowler without so much as batting an eye. The loud roar of the weapon coupled with the frightened reaction of the horses as both men caught the brunt of the discharges in the chest, caused Fowler's mount to buck with similar fear. The assassin fell to the ground as Chris rushed forward and tore the last unseated rider from his horse. The chaos taking place around the man had distracted him from the flurry of movement that had become Chris Larabee. Chris dragged him out of the saddle and paused long enough for Fowler to notice that he had snaked an arm around the man's throat and was waiting for an audience.  
  
Before Chris snapped his neck with one abrupt movement.  
  
The man went limp in Chris' arm following the sickening squelch of muscle and bone. Chris let him drop to the ground and turned his attention to Fowler with eyes that were black like onyx. The assassin who knew little about fear saw something in the gunslinger's eyes that made him shudder. Chris took a step forward, oblivious to the fact that he was unarmed and Fowler was but still confident that it was Fowler who was about to die. Even the assassin began to understand this as Chris walked forward with such casual ease in his manner that he looked like death itself, wearing a black duster and gazing at Fowler with empty eyes.  
  
"Think of this way," Chris said listlessly as he approached. "You'll die quick. Ella won't."

* * *

_**MARY** _

 

"This is really getting out of hand." Steven complained as he checked on Mary and Billy whom he had instructed to remain hidden inside their house. He had thought moving his family into town would make things safer for them. However, after today, he decided that there was no safe haven for a man to keep his family. The gunfire had resumed an hour ago and had not stopped. Like any sane person, he had instructed Mary and his son to remain indoors while the drunken Texan's responsible for this siege got the liquor out of their system, hopefully without doing too much damage. Unfortunately, this did not appear to be a scenario that would take place anywhere in the immediate future since the group was still riding through town causing untold damage as they discharged their weapons, destroying property and sanity. Steven supposed they ought to be grateful that none of these men had turned their attention to anyone person yet.  
  
"It will end soon enough Steven." Mary advised, knowing that a short time from now, Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner would intervene and this reign of terror would end in a blaze of gunfire that would herald the formation of the seven.  
  
"I hope so," Steven frowned, walking up to the front widow to see the progression of the violence. "We need a real sheriff." He declared unhappily. "This town seems to be attracting all kinds of bad elements lately and now Chris Larabee too, God knows what the wind is going to blow into town next."  
  
"Who's Chris Larabee." Billy asked as he remained in Mary's arms at the corner of the room.  
  
"A notorious gunslinger." Steven answered off handedly, still staring out the window at the goings on taking place outside.  
  
"Really Steven," Mary frowned, feeling the need to come to Chris' defense. "We don't know anything about the man. All we have are third hand reports from questionable people regarding his so called reputation as a ruthless killer."  
  
Steven looked over his shoulder and her, clearly unimpressed by her appraisal of Chris' character. "He must have left quite an impression on you." He said without hiding the jealousy in his voice or the dislike.  
  
Mary suddenly felt embarrassed by the intensity of his glare in her direction and she forced herself to remember that this was Steven whom she had loved and for whom she had pined for so long after his death. Why did she now feel like he was a stranger. She loved him once and in her heart, she loved him still but her thoughts were filled with Chris. Seeing the gunslinger this morning had only driven home just how much she wanted back the life where she was his wife.  
  
"Don't be silly," she said trying to sound convincing. "I just don't think its right to judge a man solely on what people say about him. He seemed perfectly nice when I spoke to him."  
  
"Considering how you spoke to him, that was hardly surprising." Steven retorted, the malice in his voice was unconcealed, so was the implication.  
  
Mary felt her cheeks flush with anger. "Steven, I did nothing objectionable. I was merely having a conversation."  
  
"Did you talk to him ma?" Billy asked, oblivious to the nature of the conversation being carried out by his parents and were only aware of the fact that his mother had spoken to a famous gunslinger, like he read about in books.  
  
"Yes," Steven said turning back to the window again. "Your mother had quite a friendly conversation with Mr. Larabee."  
  
"Steven," Mary stared to get angry. Even if she had spoken to Chris with more familiarity than she should have, he had no right to discuss it in front of Billy. "I merely spoke to the man to be polite, if you read anything more into it, then that's your business."  
  
Steven turned around to say something further when suddenly, something else caught his attention. The town had been in chaos up to this point. The Texans were running riot through town, shooting at anything that moved, although gratefully no one had yet to be hurt. However, with the sudden pause in gunfire, that was all about to change. Mary knew what that was and she left Billy behind and hurried next to him, all thoughts about their previous argument fading from memory.  
  
"What is it?" She asked quietly as he looked across the street at the drama unfolding on the upper floor of the building.  
  
"Damn!" Steven swore. "I knew when they asked Nathan to fix up their trail boss there was going to be trouble."  
  
Mary followed his gaze and saw the Texans ragging Nathan out of the set of rooms that the healer used as his infirmary. The scene played out was one she was terribly familiar with even though this was the first time, she had viewed it from this perspective. Nathan was bound by the hands, struggling to break free of at least three men who were part of larger group intent on lynching him for the death of their friend.  
  
"They're going to hang him." She whispered, taking note of the rope that was around the healer's neck ready for the purpose.  
  
"Not a chance!" Steven declared firmly and hurried away from the window. Mary stared at him in shock, wondering what he though he was going to do. She knew how events had played out, that after a rather pointless attempt by her to stop the Texans from carrying out their lynching, Chris and Vin would step in her place and save Nathan from that terrible fate.  
  
"Steven!" Mary ran after him as he disappeared into the office.  
  
"What's daddy going to do?" Billy asked as she followed Steve out.  
  
"Stay where you are," she ordered in that no nonsense tone that made Billy freeze in his place and remain silent.  
  
When she reached the room, she saw him loading up the double barrel shot gun that he kept in the office. In the reality she remembered, Mary had kept it in pretty much the same place. Periodically, he would look out the window to keep abreast of what was taking place outside. By this point, Nathan had been brought to street level, giving everyone in town a rough idea of what was going to take place. A wagon being driven by one of the Texans had pulled up at the front of the building where the infirmary was and Nathan was bundled roughly into the back at gunpoint.  
  
"Steven, you're not going out there." Mary exclaimed.  
  
"Of course I am." Steven retorted, giving her a look that seemed surprise that she could even ask such a thing. "I can't let them hang Nathan."  
  
Mary swallowed hard, suddenly remembering why she loved this man so much and how good and courageous truly be. This was the husband that she remembered and pined for after his death, not the jealous man who had angered her a short time ago.  
  
For a moment, Mary felt inordinately proud of him, like she always did when he was at his most determined to defend someone who needed defending because no one else gave a damn. "Steven," she smiled, her hand touching his face tenderly as he paused and looked into her eyes. "I love you."  
  
"I'll be fine," he said confidently and kissed the hand against his cheek, happier than all was well between them again. He hated it when he and Mary argued because he loved her so much and knew that part of the reason he had been so jealous was because the thought of her looking at someone with the same look she reserved for him was more than he could stand. "You stay here with Billy." He said gently before he took the gun and hurried out of the office into the street.  
  
Mary watched him go, knowing that he would not get hurt. After all, she had done the same thing and the only she had suffered was to her pride. They had brushed her aside like an annoyance because she was just a woman. Suddenly, Mary felt her breath catch. Dear God! They had not hurt her because she was a woman but Steven…  
  
Mary was running out the door before the thought could coalesce completely in her mind. She prayed she was wrong. She prayed that the reason they had not shot her that day was out of some sense of belief that there was a world of difference from hurting a white man and lynching a Negro, not because she was a woman. As she ran up the street, she saw Chris Larabee watching at the front of the saloon, his eyes immediately shifted from the unfolding drama to her as she approached, her skirts raised in a desperate attempt to reach Steven before it was too late.  
  
Gangrene was the last word she heard Steven say before the sound gunfire tore through the air. She froze in the middle of the street as she saw him fall. The shot gun fell out of his hand after the bullets had done their work. There were cries of shock and horror throughout the town from those watching as they saw one of their most prominent citizens gunned down in front of his wife. Mary watched in slow motion as he landed in the dirt and the men who had killed him, continue on their way. The alcohol has so blinded their senses that they felt little remorse over what they had done and would not likely to do so until the liquor had worn off.  
  
When she could finally move again, she found her limbs heavy as she approached him. Even as she neared him, she knew he was dead. He lay there on the street, his blood seeping from under him like a crimson pool that reflected the colour of her world as she came understand that she had lost him again. Although some of the townsfolk had converged around his body, all stepped aside when Mary finally reached him. The world ceased to exist around her as she knelt down beside him and tried not to cry. It was easier to do than she might have imagined, after all, she had wept these tears for him once before. The sorrow of his passing was nothing new to her. The circumstances had just changed.  
  
Mary dropped to her knees and brushed his cheek once again with her finger tips again, as she had done only a short time ago. The bullets that killed him were plain to see on his ruined torso. The killing wound was where his heart was situated and Mary was able to take some comfort in the knowledge that the dying for him had come quickly. She had wished him alive for so long, to have him back again and now as she held him in her arms, having lost him a second time, did she finally understand why that was always such a impossible dream.  
  
Steven Travis believed in standing up for what he believed in, no matter what the price to himself. He had avoided death once because this wish of hers had allowed it, however, everything that he was ensured that he would willingly put himself in danger if he believed the cause was right time after time. She had wished he had not been killed that night when she should have wished him to be someone else because the only way he was going to stay alive was by not being the man he was.  
  
Chris Larabee watched the woman with eyes like a dove hold her husband in her arms, shedding not one tear as she cradled his dead form even though the full measure of her grief was an open book to Chris. He knew precisely what was taking place inside her and he could share her sorrow with as much intimacy as he wanted to share her heart. When she had looked at him earlier that morning, Chris had been able to think of nothing else. Even though it was a wedding ring he had seen on her finger, thoughts of golden hair plagued him so badly he had more or less, neglected to notice what was taking place in town. Perhaps if he had, her husband would still be alive.  
  
He watched her grief and felt it stab in his own heart, filling the emptiness that had lived there since Sarah and Adam had died, with the first semblance of feeling in almost three years. Chris wanted to hold her, he wanted to tell her that her world had not ended with the death of her husband, that some day, someone would breeze into her life and bring with it a reason to live as she had done for him. Chris took a deep breath and made a decision at the same time he noticed that the store clerk who had been watching the proceedings in the shop across the street, emerging with a rifle after appearing to have come to the same conclusion he had. The younger man met his gaze and the secret message conveyed between prompted Chris into moving.  
  
It was time to do something.

* * *

 _ **VIN**_  
  
The sun was almost up.  
  
If he did not act soon, they would be on the move again and he would have to spend another day tracking them. While patience was virtue in this game, Vin wanted to be done with Eli Joe so he could get back to his life or begin living it again. Even in the reality he remembered, Vin had to admit the desire to catch Eli Joe had almost become obsession. He had trailed the outlaw longer and further than any other bounty he had set himself to collect. Only when he had found Kincaid's body and returned with it to Tascosa, did Vin realize just how single-minded he had been about Eli Joe's capture. He had been so single minded that he had missed the obvious signs of the deception and led to his becoming a fugitive.  
  
Vin remained in the darkness, watching his prey as they remained huddled around the fire, passing the bottle of whisky that was making them drunk but doing nothing to hasten their descent into a stupor where they could be easily handled. He did not recognize the other men with Eli Joe but Vin decided he was not in the mood to take all of them on. He only wanted Eli Joe. Once he had the outlaw in his custody, Vin had every intention of abandoning the bounty hunting game. If necessary, he would seek out Chris Larabee or wait the gunslinger out in Four Corners. Eventually, things would fall into place as they had been and Alex would not far behind those events.  
  
This time however, he was beating Ezra to her.  
  
In truth, Vin had no idea how he was going to stand waiting for her arrival when she was such a large part of his life. In fact they all were, from Chris to J.D., Vin knew that in the past two years, they had filled a void in his life he had never suspected was there. He spent so much time alone in his life that the need for people had been a secondary consideration. Even when he lived with the Indians, he was always set apart. Although they treated him as one of their own, he was not and while nothing was said, Vin could feel the underlying sentiment held by them all that as much as he tried to understand their ways, he was still a white man and in some respects, the enemy. Only when he had come to Four Corners and met Chris and the others, did Vin recognize the long buried need to belong somewhere and to someone.  
  
Chris had understood and extended a hand of friendship towards him, a hand seldom offered to anyone. However, Vin was certain the gunslinger saw in him something that had been lost in himself since the death of the wife and child that left Chris Larabee so terribly marked. Chris' friendship, guarded though it may have been at first had taught Vin a great deal about letting people into his life. If it had not been for Chris, he would still be the loner that he was, not a member of the seven and certainly without Alex in his life. If he could just deal with Eli Joe this time, then when she came into his life again, he would not have to worry about never being able to marry her because of this damn bounty on his head.  
  
Vin blinked and stared into the campsite where the outlaw was camped and noticed that the voices were silent. It appeared that the liquor and the late hour had finally taken its toll on the group and they were fast asleep in their bedrolls. Even Eli Joe was down for the count, having collapsed next to the fire, being too drunk too crawl into bed. It was just as well. Vin wanted to take the man with the least amount of fuss.  
  
After watching the campsite a little while longer to ensure that no trick was being played on him, Vin finally moved out of his hiding place. Covering the distance between himself and Eli Joe in a matter of minutes, Vin moved across the darkened landscape almost soundlessly, his footsteps giving no warning in their advance. The horses stirred slightly at his approach but not enough to give him away. He paused as they neighed and stamped their feet, their animal senses detecting him with far more accuracy than he himself was capable of tracking. Vin paused for a moment, making certain that the unheard warning remained just that and continued forward only when he saw no movement from the prone figures lying asleep next to the gentle illumination of amber light.  
  
Vin removed his gun slowly, knowing precisely where Eli Joe was situated from his observations earlier. He crept past the others, who were as he suspected too drowned in liquor to be coherent of anything but each others snoring, which was he might add rather loud. Eli Joe was lying directly in front of the fire, lying on his back in the dirt, clutching an empty bottle of Red Eye as he snored loudly in his stupor. Vin looked over his shoulder and made sure they others remained where they were, unstirred and silent.  
  
No sooner than had done that, he heard the audible click of a gun.  
  
"I knew you weren't stupid enough to take the bait." Eli Joe was looking at him with a gun pointed at his face, fully awake. The man had been waiting for the arrival of the tracker all evening, expecting company even though the others had anticipated the bounty hunter would have taken Kincaid's body back to Tuscosa by now. However, Eli Joe knew that man who was pursuing him, knew that any bounty hunter that would be so determined to maintain the hunt no matter what the outlaw had done to throw him off the trail would not be fooled so easily by such a simple ruse.  
  
Vin swore under his breath, cursing himself for a fool in his eagerness to get his hands on the man. Now Eli Joe had the drop on him and he was in for a world of trouble.  
  
"I should have taken care of this the old fashioned way," Eli Joe replied, his eyes narrowing with such intense hatred that Vin suddenly realized that when Alexandra Styles finally arrived in Four Corners, he was not going to be there to meet her.  
  
The last thing he knew of anything was Eli Joe pulling the trigger.

* * *

 _ **ALEX**_  
  
  
When the stage rumbled into Four Corners, Alexandra Styles knew at last that she was at home.  
  
The knot that had formed in her insides ever since she had woken up in that strange office in Boston had started unraveling as soon as she entered the town limits. Alex was practically leaning out the window as the Concord rumbled into Four Corners, eagerly breathing in the familiar air of home, even though it was hardly what one would called scented. Still, the smell of leather and horses and all the things that made the Territory so distinctive was captured in that one breath of air. For the first time in days since she had woken to this strange dream where her deepest wishes were fulfilled, Alex felt somewhat at ease. The effect on her was so noticeable that even her father could not help but be astonished by the sudden changed in her manner upon entering this dusty town in the middle of nowhere. Who ever this young man was with whom his daughter was so enamored, he must have been something quite extraordinary for William Styles had never seen Alex so passionate about anyone. There were times when it concerned him just how clinical she could be. He realized that much of this was his fault, that he had raised her without any consideration to her gender, just her mind and so she tended to rely upon it more stringently than most women to do her thinking for her.  
  
"I know this is impossible," Styles asked since Alex's pleasure at being in this town was so apparent on her face that he actually wondered if she had ever been here before. "You did not leave Boston for a few weeks without my knowing and actually visited this place have you?" He looked at her suspiciously.  
  
"Vin described it pretty accurately," Alex lied, not about to explain to him just how she knew Four Corners. Despite her happiness to be here, Alex was also thrilled that she had made this journey with her beloved father. It was like they had never been apart and everything she remembered about him was as it was for most of her youth, where they travelled the globe like a pair of nomads with no fixed home. Having him meeting Vin was the sweetest conclusion she could think of to this whole crazy dream.  
  
"I see," He said skeptically, with every indication that he did not for a second believe a word she was saying.  
  
Alex offered him a vague smile and sat up as the stage finally pulled up next to the Four Corners hotel. She knew her father had many questions and were she able to explain to him how any of this was possible without his thinking her stark raving mad, then she would do so happily for she disliked keeping secrets from him. As it was, she had no idea how she was going to explain this to Vin but she knew she had little choice in the matter. She loved him and not even this strange reality she had somehow stumbled into would change that. Alex knew that he felt the same for her and even when he looked at her and saw a stranger, she was convinced she could convince him that in another place and time, they were meant everything to each other.  
  
Alex disembarked from the carriage and looked over the town. Nothing much had changed. In fact, from the Emporium located at the end of the street to the Clarion News office across the street from the saloon, the place was as she exactly remembered it the night before she had gone to sleep and awoke in Boston. Familiar faces she had treated during her time in Four Corners, walked up and down the street, showing no recognition in their eyes when they happened past her. Some of the men looked at her in interest, their eyes moving over her form the way men did whenever they caught sight of something they liked.  
  
"Daddy," Alex turned to her father who was seeing to their bags as it was being unloaded from the top of the Concord. "Why don't you check us in the hotel. I'm going for a little walk, I need to stretch my legs a little after all that."  
  
"Certainly Lex," Styles answered, his attention more focused on his discussion with the stagecoach driver and where their luggage was to be deposited then anything Alex had said.  
  
Alex left him to it and tried to think where Vin would be at this time of the day if he were indeed in town. God, she hoped he was. Alex did not think she could stand to go without seeing him for another minute. The last few days had been hell. She never thought she could miss him so much in her life. She missed the dinners they shared, the moonlight rides, not to mention the passionate lovemaking. She missed that a lot. Strolling through town, she re-acquainted herself with Four Corners, realizing that she missed the town even if it was rustic and primitive by the standards of Boston. She was almost tempted to see what had become of the house that had become her clinic when she found herself walking past the saloon.  
  
There he was.  
  
Vin Tanner was playing checkers with Ezra Standish in the walkway that ran past the saloon, enjoying the summer heat rather than wasting the day away inside the dim confines of the establishment. Chris Larabee was also present but the gunslinger's nose was in a book. Who would have thought that the somber son of a bitch was such a literary buff, Alex thought for the hundredth time. Vin looked no different than the last time she saw him, wearing that damn buckskin jacket she was certain he would be buried in one day, with a look she knew to be one of utter boredom. It must have been a slow day if he was reduced to playing checkers with Ezra, particularly since the gambler's sleight of hand allowed him to cheat at that too.  
  
It was a slow day for Vin Tanner but as he looked up and saw her coming towards their direction, all thoughts regarding the game he was playing with Ezra seemed to fade from his mind. He stared for a moment, feeling something stop working in his chest as she crossed the street. Vin basked in the sight of her, wondering who she was, with her golden skin and a smile that seemed meant for only him.  
  
With waves of jet black hair bouncing off her shoulders as she moved, Vin had never in his life been so utterly captured by any female. Not even Charlotte had paralyzed him with such desire.  
  
"Mr. Tanner," Ezra who had been waiting for Vin to make a move on the board, said impatiently. "The move is yours."  
  
"What?" Vin turned his attention back to the game, which he had absolutely no interest in at this point.  
  
"What has captured your attention so…oh my." Ezra stopped short as he saw the woman who had crossed the street and seemed to be proceeding in their direction. "My compliments on your taste."  
  
Chris Larabee looked up at this point much to Vin's embarrassment. He had no wish to be caught gawking like a teenager but his annoyance lasted for only a second because the object of his affections was soon heading directly for them. Immediately, the three lawmen rose to their feet for the woman, who despite her colouring was dressed very much like a lady and should have been afforded the proper respect.  
  
Alex saw Vin's eyes the moment he saw her and knew that she was not a stranger to him, well in heart anyway. Her effect upon her was evident in the depths of the cobalt coloured pools of his eyes, which Alex knew were incapable of hiding how he felt from her. She swelled inside knowing that her intense feelings for him were not one sided, that even now, though she appeared to be a complete stranger, the passion of their love still existed on some level . It was also nice to know that Vin had been telling Alex the truth when he said that he had loved her from the first. The instant she laid eyes upon him, Alex knew that her plan of getting to know him gradually before rekindling their love affair without actually going into detail of how they had first met, was going straight out the window.  
  
Her arms were around him even before she knew she was making a public spectacle of herself. Alex pulled him close, pressing her lips against his in a kiss of steamy passion. After so many days without him, she felt starved and even though there was some measure of resistance as she kissed him, it lasted for no more than a second before his tongue was probing past her teeth, joining hers in their passionate exchange.  
  
Vin had no idea what was happening but when he felt her arms around him, he knew he wanted nothing else. She tasted like nothing he had ever known in his life and the scent of her skin made him dizzy from sheer craving. When Vin finally regained enough sense to push away from her, he was almost breathless as he stared at her with wonder, not to mention a great deal of puzzlement. She flashed him a radiant smile and Vin found his heart beating heavily in his chest as she looked at him with eyes that held the secret to a mystery he was not privy.  
  
"I'm guessing you've met." Chris Larabee said, trying to hide the amusement at the expression of absolute bewilderment on Vin Tanner's face.  
  
Alex saw Vin's face turn a shade of crimson and decided to spare him the embarrassment of trying to explain. "I'm Alexandra Styles," she introduced herself to the gunslinger and the gambler. Ezra was also trying hard to hide the snigger that was threatening to steal across his features. "I'm thinking of setting up a medical practice here in Four Corners, I'm a doctor."  
  
"A doctor?" Vin exclaimed staring at her in astonishment. "But you're..."  
  
Alex gave him a wicked smile and remarked. "A woman." She replied. "I thought we cleared that up a second ago." She teased and garnered a rather dark look from him in response.  
  
"And how did you and Mr. Tanner get acquainted?" Ezra found himself asking because like Chris, that question was burning foremost in his mind. Vin was not the most social of creatures and had a habit of being painfully shy, particularly when it came to the opposite sex. How Vin could have had the opportunity to charm this incredibly beautiful woman was beyond Ezra especially since none of them had laid eyes upon her before or was aware of when Vin might have had the opportunity to meet her in the first place.  
  
"That's our secret." She said evasively before turning to Vin. "If you want to escort me to the hotel Vin, I think we need to talk."  
  
"Now you want to talk?" Vin stared at her, his confusion escalating by the moment. Something very strange was going on and felt like he had to run after her to keep up. It did not help that when he gazed at her, he felt such a rush of desire, he had no sense of anything but wanting her lips against his in a repeat of that devastating kiss she had delivered to him a short time ago.  
  
"Until next time Mr. Larabee, Mr. Standish." Alex smiled, not waiting for Vin to follow as she started walking.  
  
"Go on Mr. Tanner," Ezra urged, giving Vin a gentle push as the tracker stood there looking at them helplessly. Neither Chris nor the gambler had ever seen the younger man so far removed from his usually unflappable self. "I believe I can sacrifice our game just to know that you are not keeping your lady friend waiting."  
  
"I have no idea who she is!" Vin stammered, gravitating between complete panic and the desire to run after her like a schoolboy.  
  
"Yeah," Chris grinned. "I could tell by the way you were kissing her pard."  
  
"You ain't helping!" Vin barked in irritation.  
  
"And you ought to be going so she can explain it to you," Ezra prompted, "because I want to hear how this came about as much as you." The gambler taunted.  
  
Vin let out a groan of exasperation but nevertheless departed from his friends before they started laughing and he was forced to shoot the both of them.  
  
It took a few lengthy strides for Vin to fall in step with the woman called Alexandra Styles. She reacted at his present beside her with little more than a sidelong glance. "Relax Vin, its not that bad."  
  
"Not that bad?" He looked at her. "You just come out of nowhere kiss me and tell me that it ain't that bad. I don't even know who you are!"  
  
She paused and looked at him with a faint smile. "I told you, my name is Alex Styles. I'm a doctor."  
  
"I know that bit." He said sarcastically. "I mean why did you kiss me?"  
  
"Because I love you." She answered, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  
  
"You don't even know me!" Vin was very confused by this point.  
  
"I know enough to let you in on a couple of things." She motioned him forward and whispered quietly in his ear. Vin listened to her words and then recoiled as if she had let him in on something completely horrifying.  
  
"How do you know about that scar?" He hissed mortified that she should have such personal information about himself and his body.  
  
"The same way I know that kisses on your lower back makes you absolutely insane." She grinned and continued walking, enjoying this a little. She did so love playing with his head.  
  
If Vin had been drinking, he would have choked. Instead he just opted to turn a deeper shade of crimson because her revelations, embarrassing as they might be for him to admit, were utterly correct. Vin just could not understand how she knew. "Are you crazy?" He asked, feeling like he had walked in at the middle of a play.  
  
"Nope." She said casually.  
  
"Well you're driving me crazy." He grumbled.  
  
"I guess I am," Alex looked at him with a twinkle in her eyes. "But you're going to love me."

* * *

WARNING: NC17 SCENE

 

_**JULIA** _

 

  
It took little under a week for Julia to arrive in Four Corners and that journey was fraught with the same considerations that had plagued her when she first fled into the night from her father's home in the reality she remembered. Like before, she slipped away quietly, leaving only a note to say to those who would be bothered by her disappearance that she was going away on a short trip and would not be home for at least a month. Of course, she left no clue as to where she was headed and travelled under the alias that had become more real to her then the name Avery. When she boarded the train for the West, she did so as Julia Pemberton.  
  
Travelling under the name of Pemberton had ensured that Roderick Packard would not follow her in pursuit. She knew that until she was married, there would be no end to the man's determination to make her his bride. Although she did not hate him as much as she did, having come to know him in the past few days, Julia was unprepared to pave his way into Philadelphia society by being his wife.  
  
Still, Roderick was just the most acute symptom of the problem she had been facing ever since she had come into her father's money. It was ironic that upon inheriting her father's estate, she was no happier than she had been when she was hiding in Four Corners.  
  
In fact, she truly missed the place and the friends she had made there, not to mention Ezra, whose thoughts preyed on her mind almost hourly. Amazingly enough, even though in this time and place, he had no idea of her existence, she found that she could not be unfaithful to him. However, she was not about to waste time with coy attempts to get him to know her and rekindling their romance.  
  
Julia was not a patient woman and if she was not in his life at this point, then there was only one other thing that held more sway over his existence than what she might have meant to him.  
  
She arrived in town inconspicuously, hiding out in the same suite of rooms she had taken when she had first come to Four Corners. However, instead of seeking him out immediately, she paid a nice gratuity to the bellboy to find out if Ezra was indeed in Four Corners. Julia soon learnt that apart from her absence, everything else was as she remembered. He was indeed one of the seven guardians of Four Corners who was also part owner of the Standish Tavern. She ruminated on how she would approach him and decided that it might be simpler if she have him come to her. Besides, if Ezra thought there was a quick buck in it, he would follow her to the moon.  
  
God, she missed him.  
  
So now she found herself here, pacing the floor of her room, waiting for him to come, feeling like a schoolgirl in her giddy desire to see him. Her pulse was racing and she was dressed in the most alluring thing she could find in her wardrobe, wondering when was the last time she had actually felt the need to dress for any man. Julia checked her look in the mirror for the hundredth time when she heard the inevitable knock on the door of her suite. The sudden sound made her jump and she realized how anxious she really was to see him. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her nerves and slid into the charming manner that was capable of reducing most men to panting teenagers before answering the door.  
  
Ezra Standish stood before her, appearing just as dapper as she remembered and Julia felt her breast swell at just the sight of him. She wanted to hold him and tell him how much she missed him these past few days but when he looked back at her, Julia knew he had no idea who she was, even though he reacted to her like all men reacted to her. His sea-coloured eyes met her emerald own and for a few seconds they just stared at each other. Julia gazed at him, hoping that there was something in Ezra that knew who she was while Ezra tried hard to maintain the cool image of the perfect southern gentlemen before what was undoubtedly the most breathtaking creature he had ever seen in his life.  
  
"Mr. Standish, please come in." she said after a moment, remembering that she had a plan already laid out and she needed to follow it. Ezra was no fool and he had the distinction of being the one person she could not lie to with any measure of success. It was God's way of paying her back, she had decided long ago, that the one man she would love beyond anything was the only one who could see straight through her.  
  
Ezra walked into the room, puzzled by this whole invitation. As it was, he was somewhat amazed that such a beautiful woman had made her arrival in town without anyone being aware of it. Usually, Buck Wilmington could smell an eligible female before she even broke town limits, let alone go unnoticed for days.  
  
"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, Madam. Your note did not tell me your name." Ezra replied as she motioned him to sit. Judging by the steaming pot of tea on the table, she had prepared the setting for this meeting quite fastidiously. For the life of him, Ezra could not understand what this was about although he was not one to deny himself a moment in such charming company.  
  
"My name is Julia Avery." Julia introduced herself deciding that for her purposes, her real name would have to be disclosed. "I have a business proposition for you."  
  
"I am intrigued." He said wondering what she had in mind.  
  
Unfortunately, she was not about to launch into what that might be just yet. Instead, she went through the motions of serving tea and making some small talk regarding her journey to Four Corners, some personal inquiries about himself and other inanities. He took the time to observe her, deciding that nothing about her was very conventional and guessing very quickly that whatever she intended to tell him was not something she could put on the table with any ease. Ezra hated to think that he could be the cause of so much consternation when every time he looked into her eyes, he saw something that he could not explain but knew to be kindred.  
  
"Here is the thing," Julia sighed, deciding there was no point delaying what she needed to say. Once she gauged how he felt about her proposition she could do the rest. "I recently came into a great deal of money."  
  
He tried to remain calm when she mentioned the subject of money but Julia could see his eyes flicker with instinctive interest. Choosing not leave him in suspense, Julia continued. "The problem is, I have every fortune hunter in a hundred mile radius of where I live attempting to charm or marry me, I can abide either but I'm under a great deal of pressure to pick someone and soon."  
  
"If you do not mind my inquiring Miss Avery, just how money have you acquired?" He asked, trying to sound delicate but Julia was perfectly aware that he was burning with curiosity to know. He was after all, her Ezra. Until she came into his life, his first love had been money. Although, sometimes she wondered whether she had actually supplanted that love or was he just telling her that so she would not kill him.  
  
"Two million dollars." She answered with a faint smile.  
  
He swallowed visibly and she wondered if he needed smelling salts because he looked somewhat faint.  
  
"That's a great deal of money," he said after a moment, trying to remain cool as ever.  
  
"Yes, it is." Julia tried not to smile. "You see my dilemma."  
  
"I am surprise you managed to get away alone," he remarked with genuine surprise. "If I were after a fortune like that I would never let you out of my sight." The idea of fortune hunters chasing after her with no thought about the woman herself seemed somewhat scandalous. True, the money was inviting, actually more than inviting, damn near intoxicating but this was no wallflower. She was a exceedingly beautiful woman; the money would be incidental next to actually having her. True, he had no idea what she might be like but something told him that she was special in a way most women could never aspire.  
  
"Which brings me to my proposition." Julia said pleased because she had seen the genuine concern in his eyes as he had asked the question, beyond the taste for the money. "I need to be married Mr. Standish and I need to be married soon. Now I'm not particular about where I live and this town seems charming indeed if you wish to remain here. I am willing to sign equal control of the fortune to you provided that you are willing to sign an agreement that ensures we stay married for at least ten years."  
  
Ezra merely stared at her in astonishment. "Miss Avery, are you proposing that I marry you?"  
  
"Of course," Julia nodded, wondering how he could think anything else. "Is that so surprising?"  
  
"Aside from the fact that you and I are complete strangers and you wish to enter a marriage of convenience with me, yes I must confess, I do find it a little unusual." He exclaimed.  
  
"What makes you think it’s going to be a marriage of convenience." She looked at him with a suggestive gleam in her eyes.  
  
Whatever he was going to say next froze in his throat as she leaned over and kissed him. For a moment, he could do nothing but lose himself to the power of those silky lips, devouring his mouth with increasing passion. Ezra wanted to protest but as he felt her hands brace herself against his chest, her tongue probing into his mouth with such seduction and desire, he felt his resistance melt and he was kissing her back. His hands immediately circled her and he reached for the copper coloured hair that he had been longing to run his fingers through ever since he walked into the room.  
  
Julia felt dizzy from the pressure of his mouth against hers. Now that his initial surprise had faded, he was taking control again and she felt that familiar fire of anticipation burning inside of her whenever they made love.  
  
Ezra had made sex something she could enjoy not merely use as a means to an end. He was the first man who ever wanted more than just to have her. He had shown her what pleasure could be and for that, Julia knew she love him to the day she died, whether or not it was in this reality or any other.  
  
Julia broke the kiss long enough to sit back and release her hair, disheveled from his hands running through it. It swept down her cream coloured neck in waves of red that made his breath catch as he stared at her, his arousal apparent in the way his eyes move up and down her body, envisioning what was behind the layers of fabric covering her skin. Julia stood up and in her eyes, beckoned him to follow. She saw him swallow, as if what was happening at this moment had caught him completely by surprise and all he could do in action was to be carried away helplessly.  
  
"Miss Avery," he managed to say when she led him towards the bed at the far end of the room and he realized just how far she was willing to satisfy both their desires. "Do you always move so fast?"  
  
"Only when I see what I want." She remarked when she reached the bed and turned around to face him again. Her hand slid around his neck and she started kissing his neck, feeling his body react to the feel of her tongue laving the sensitive skin. "Then I do things painfully slow." To illustrate the point, she traced a wet line from his neck to his earlobe and heard him groan slightly.  
  
"Well," Ezra sighed as he started taking control once again, now that he was clear on what she expected of him. "I am never one to refuse a lady's attention."  
  
When Ezra lifted her chin to him again, their mouths with fierce intensity. He slid the wet heat of his tongue past her teeth while savouring the softness of her lips. He had no idea what he was doing and for once in his life he hardly cared. This incredibly desirable creature had just offered him more money than he could ever dream of and even if she came without a cent to her name, he still wanted her. There had been women before but none that could make him throw caution to the wind as he was doing so now.  
  
Ezra felt her hands pulling at his coat, desperately needing to divest him of his clothes. His jacket fell to the carpeted floor in her feverish desire and Ezra helped her with the buttons of his waist coat when he saw the lust burning in her eyes and in the shape of her slightly parted lips. Any remaining doubt he might have had against the prudence of what he was doing was washed away when his vest and shirt was finally discarded and her hands slid across the bare skin of his back, paralyzing him with the incredible sensation of her touch. He felt her breasts heaving against his chest and could feel the points of her nipples through the fabric of her dress.  
  
Julia did not resist when Ezra started pulling at her dress, moving through the layers of her clothes with such ease that very soon, she found herself standing before him completely naked. The sight of her bare completely was enough to make his cock stiffen with such rigid desire that he could feel it pressing uncomfortably against his trousers. He felt his heart pound at the absolute magnificence of her and still felt overwhelmed that she had chosen him over all others. Ezra had no idea why she had decided to bestow her affections upon him in such a pleasurable way but he was going to never give her reason to regret it.  
  
He tortured Julia's mouth mercilessly with warm, seductive kisses while at the same time caressing the swollen breasts before him. He groaned softly as he felt the erect nipples under his palm, hardening each time he moved over the sensitive buds. Julia released a pleasured sigh into his mouth when she felt his finger tips brush against the tight nubs of flesh, taunting them into further contraction. Her moan of pleasure reached down his throat and tantalized his growing erection with every soft whimper.  
  
While engaging her attention in this way, Ezra had manoeuvred her towards the bed that was only inches away from them. Gently, he lowered her onto the soft mattress, hating to leave her mouth but knowing he must for a brief moment. Julia eased back into the bed, watching him strip off the last of his clothes with nothing less than pure lust. How she had missed being with him in the past she remembered and hoped it would be as wonderful for him as it had always been for her. Julia felt another gush of moisture between her legs as she saw him completely naked and licked her lips in anticipation at how beautiful he was.  
  
"I'm impressed Mr. Standish." she smiled at him seductively.  
  
Despite his control of the situation, she saw an involuntary twinge of red seep into his face as he smiled. "As am I." He returned huskily and came towards her. However, before Ezra could lower himself down on the bed, Julia stopped him as he stood in front of her. She gazed at his raging erection and found herself meeting his eyes with a leer of salacious desire. She saw the shudder of anticipation running through him as he realized what she was about to do and dropped his hand onto her shoulders as if bracing himself for the torture she was about to make him endure. Julia teased him a little, working her warm tongue over her lower lip, her movements slow and full of promise. Ezra was mesmerized by those soft lips and suddenly found himself leaning closer to her, his cock brushing her face gently. The tip that touched her cheek made him groan softly.  
  
Julia liked the sound he made as he struggled to restrain himself from forcing his way into her mouth. She decided she liked making him suffer a little and continued rubbing the swollen head of his cock against her skin before parting her lips ever so slightly in an invitation for him enter. Her tongue slipped past her teeth, seductively, beckoning him with tantalizing movements across her upper lip. Ezra felt his cock spasm at the thought of burying himself in that warm, moist mouth.  
  
"I am going to make you scream, Mr. Standish." She whispered and saw the restraint snap inside him as he trust his hips at her mouth and she was able to delight in the sensation of his engorged cock sliding down her throat before closing her lips close around it with tight wet pressure.  
  
"Oh God." He whispered.  
  
The hunger in which she swallowed his throbbing member deep into her mouth was more than Ezra could stand. All he could do as she ran her tongue over his shaft was to groan incoherently. With a start, he realized that he was being very vocal when he thrust his hips forward, his cock determined to bury itself as far down her throat as possible. The pleasure of what her tongue was doing to him was beyond description. He could hardly believe that under the facade of the prim and proper heiress, was a siren capable of producing such mind numbing pleasure. No woman he had ever been with had managed to match this sweet delight.  
  
His hands were running through her hair as he pulled her face forward while thrusting into the taut ring of her lips. She increased the pressure even more until all he could feel was that surge of crushing weight as her lips slid over his shaft. Ezra could feel the sudden tightening in his groin when his cock hardened beyond the point of endurance and whatever resolve he had left threaten to crumble with complete surrender. He had to stop her or else he would come in her mouth. As much as he wanted to feel that ecstasy, Ezra wanted to be inside her when the time came and so he managed a strangled gasp.  
  
"Not yet." He said feeling anguished when he forced himself out of her mouth. Ezra climbed onto the bed, lowering her flat on her back in his descent. Once they were nestled together, Ezra started kissing her again, unable to get enough of her wonderful taste. His kisses were harder and more intense where they had been warm and gentle earlier. The desire to explore her mouth was gone; she had pushed him so far over the brink he could think of nothing but taking complete possession of her. His tongue plundered hers with passion, until the ferocity of it took her breath away and she was left gasping for air.  
  
After a while, he slipped away from her mouth, sliding further down her naked body, until his mouth found her nipples and took one into her mouth. He started sucking it insistently, sending exquisite waves of pleasure rippling through her body each time he chose to swirl his warm tongue over the erect tip. Julia had started to moan, feeling that pleasure while at the same time aware that Ezra's hands were sliding down her thigh. She felt his skillful fingers slip past her throbbing folds, prying them apart as he buried one finger deep into her warm recess. The muscles within gripped the finger with such hard suction that Ezra felt all the blood rush to his cock in a single gush of desire at the anticipation of what those muscles would do to his manhood.  
  
Her cries were almost incoherent now as she was treated to the ministrations of his sensuous mouth as he nibbled gently on her while his hand kneaded her other breast. Ezra's lips were everywhere at once and she knew he delighted in her reaction. The way her body shuddered in sighs of ecstasy each time he ran his hands over her skin or laved its silky texture with his tongue in long strokes, made him so aroused he could hardly believe it.  
  
Suddenly, Ezra withdrew his fingers and started sliding downward; eliciting a ragged sob from her when both hands and mouth stopped what they were doing. She looked down at him with glassy eyes and swallowed hard when she realized what he was about to do. Ezra trailed hot kisses down her abdomen as he made his downward journey. Finally he arrived at his destination and gently coaxed her legs apart before lowering himself into the mound of dark hair. If she felt so good around his fingers, Ezra wanted to know if she tasted just as delicious. As he nuzzled into the cleft between her legs, Ezra was rewarded with a groan of utter ecstasy.  
  
"Oh!" She cried out. Her body had become a tight knot of pleasure. Oh God, Ezra. " She could hardly form the words as she felt his mouth searching for that sensitive place hidden in the folds of her pulsing flesh. All she could stand was that wet tongue probing deeper into her, until he found the pearl of flesh that would shatter every bit of self control with one flick of hot, moist pleasure.  
  
Ezra did not speak but continued what he was doing, feeling his own desire mount at her vocal expression of his seductive ministrations. His tongue darted into her deepest crevices, moving to a rhythm that only he could knew. He swirled around that tiny node of skin until it was so hard; he could feel his own cock straining with excitement. Julia dug her fingers into his hair as Ezra proceeded to fuck her with his tongue, sliding in and out of her with long, smooth strokes until she was moaning incoherently with mindless pleasure.  
  
His tongue started to tingle as he felt Julia reaching the peak of her climax. He loved the sensation against the tip of his tongue when a woman was about to orgasm. He swirled around that erect nub of tissue, sucking it hard between his teeth before laving its tiny tip with his hot tongue. She was whimpering now and Ezra knew she was not long from filling him with her warm salty taste. It rushed into his mouth no sooner than the thought had crossed his mind and he lapped her up with relish, satisfied in the knowledge that it was he who made her feel this way.  
  
Seeing the dreamy expression on her face as she came down from her shattering climax only made Ezra want to plunge into her sensitive flesh. He did not want her to have time to regain her composure because more than anything at this moment, he wanted to feel those powerful muscles grab his cock and crush it helplessly in a surge of pressure that would make him scream with absolute surrender. Ezra looked at Julia whose expression was starting to fill with hungry need at the sight of him. She met his gaze and smiled. "Make love to me Ezra, make love to me hard."  
  
Ezra was so hot and ready that he could barely stand to wait another second, as he remained poised at her slick opening. Spreading her legs apart with his knee, Ezra did not offer her warning as he entwined his fingers between her own and rammed his cock deep inside her, pushing it as far it would go inside her warm and moist inner passage. Her back arched in response to the brutal penetration and she cried out. However, Ezra was there to capture her mouth again, stifling the sound before it could escape her lips. Julia started to moan into his mouth and Ezra started pumping into her, falling over the abyss of his own control into a vortex of sensation.  
  
Good God, she felt so good!  
  
Ezra's mind clouded over with sensation as he felt her tight muscles contracting around him each time he pounded into her body. Her legs were wrapped around his and her fingers dug into his back, raking across the skin and driving him insane with arousal of pain. He could do nothing in reaction but to drop one hand to her thigh and hook it around his waist so that he could impale her with even more force. She began to whimper the faster he thrust into her until the sounds she made just about drove him completely over the edge. Ezra fought for control, closing his eyes while his body became utterly subservient to the immense climax that was building inside him.  
  
Ezra felt himself explode inside of her when the pressure of those incredibly tight muscles gripped him with such pressure that it forced all sense from his world and he came crashing down, in the wake of his own release. A final shudder ran through them as their hot fluids melded in an erotic mix of heat warmed them both.  
  
"God! Julia!" He groaned as he emptied his seed deep into her body, filling her with his warmth before finally surrendering to the exhaustion wrought by this incredible experience.  
  
He collapsed on top of her, still panting as he felt all energy drain from him with the intense climax she made him experience. Julia smiled, enjoying his weight on her body as she felt his shallow breathing in her ear. After a moment, Ezra slid off her and nestled beside her so that he could cradle her in his arms.  
  
It was a while before he could answer his mind and body reeling from one of the most incredible sexual experiences of his life. "After due consideration, I think," he said looking at her with a faint smile, "that I shall accept your proposal."

* * *

_**EZRA** _

 

  
Ezra had to go home.  
  
He did not have much of a choice really. After spending most of the day hiding in his office, playing the facade of the respectable lawyer, Ezra knew he could not remain there indefinitely even though no questions were asked of him when all his staff of law clerks had departed for the day. He gathered that it must have been routine for him to stay late since no one had raised an eye brow at the sight of his being in his office when all of them were hell bent on leaving.  
  
Ezra was glad when they were finally gone and let out a sigh of relief when he had regained some measure of solitude.  
  
The exchange with Mrs. Washington this morning had preyed heavily upon him when he realized just what kind of man he was in this reality, beyond the devoted family man and husband. Ezra could not imagine anything worse than the fact that underneath what he deemed to be his idyllic existence, was a man who thought another should be subjugated because of colour. He remembered Nicholas Serfonteine and what he suffered under the man's ministrations as well as the dangerous philosophy that prompted such treatment. Nathan Jackson was his friend and that was one of the few things in his life that Ezra was genuinely proud of, that he had overcome the barrier of his own beliefs to learn something truly precious when he realized that Nathan was a better man than he.  
  
To know that dream of his perfect existence would mean sacrificing the man he had become was more than he could stand. Serfonteine had shown Ezra just how ugly it was to be so intolerant. What the Klan stood for and was willing to commit in the name of racial purity still sickened him and there were nights he woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of a cracking whip. As he finally left his office, with no alternative but to go home to the wife and child he had wanted so long ago, Ezra wondered if Annabelle shared the same beliefs. Had he raised his children to be that way as well? Was Olive only allowed in his home if she was a subservient supplicant who knew her place?  
  
Although he had no wish to return home and wanted to disappear into the mists where no one would find him where he could again, take up the reins of the life he knew, Ezra was compelled to return to the townhouse. The woman in that happy home deserved an explanation before he walked out of her life and the lives of his children. Now more than ever, he wanted to find Julia and the others. He needed to find her because he could not stand this cloistered existence where he was a pillar of the community with a dark secret that made him no less than a human monster.  
  
As soon as first light came, he was going to Four Corners. He had no idea if his friends were there or not, whether Julia Pemberton's life had gone on without him as always. He missed her acerbic wit, he missed how she would gaze at him with those emerald coloured eyes and tell him that he was not fooling her for one moment with his practiced southern charm. He missed Josiah giving him that look which more or less said that he was unredeemable and he missed watching Inez and Buck sparring, just as much he longed to cheat J.D. out of all his money and have Vin shake it out of him later. He even missed Chris Larabee staring at him with a twinge of doubt as to whether he was going to be around the next day or would he sneak away like a thief in the night before the morning came. The worst part of needing every one of them was the fact that he was at a point in his life where he was not about to endure the loneliness that had plagued him before arriving at Four Corners.  
  
Sooner than he would have liked, Ezra found himself at the townhouse once and took a deep breath as he proceeded to the front door of his home. He did not feel like it was his home and the people within it were strangers even though he knew that there was every reason in the world for him to accept them.  
  
Stepping in through the front door, he saw Annabelle standing on the steps of the main staircase, speaking with two men that he did not recognize. Both were well-dressed examples of respectable gentlemen and they turned in his direction when he entered the doorway. Annabelle immediately broke into a smile, as did the men with her. Judging by her manner towards them, these two strangers were not strangers at all but appeared to be quite familiar with the Standish family.  
  
"There you are Ezra," The first man with the dark curly hair exclaimed. "We are going to be late for our business meeting."  
  
Ezra wondered what new torture this was and decided he had no further patience for any more surprises. Putting to good use the thespian skills that made him one of the better con men in the West, Ezra quickly responded with a weary tinge to his voice. "Perhaps, you ought to go on without me. I feel the inclination to spend some time with my lovely wife." He flashed Annabelle a smile.  
  
"Nonsense!" She exclaimed and swept down the stairs, planting a soft kiss on his cheek when she reached him. "The thought is sweet darling but business is business and Cousin Charles and Cousin Jacob are waiting."  
  
Ezra groaned inwardly, thinking to himself that Julia would have seen through that excuse immediately and backed him up. Once again, the gambler found himself missing her. He met the gaze of the men before him and wondered which was Charles and Jacob and decided readily it was not important since there would be plenty of time to learn that later, since his wife had inadvertently condemned him to their company for the rest of the evening.  
  
"It appears that I am in your hands this evening, gentlemen." Ezra sighed, wishing that fact was anything but true. He needed a game of cards badly. He needed to be some place that served rotgut whisky and reeked of smoke and leather. As attractive as these opulent surroundings might have been, Ezra felt out of place here.  
  
"Don't worry," the man with the dark curls said with a grin as he prompted Ezra to follow them. "Our business won't take very long."  
  
A trio of horses were waiting for them when they emerged from the house and while it was impossible for him to discern where they were going without giving himself away, Ezra was able to keep up with most of the conversation. It took him a while to realize that that Cousin Charles was Charles Hollander. Cousin was about a close a description as one could get on their familial connections.  
  
Ezra remembered that the Hollanders were distant relatives and he had spent one summer in their company. Charles had been an arrogant boor for most of that stay and following that visit, Maude took pity on Ezra and decided it was time he went on the road with her to learn the trade.  
  
Wherever their business was being conducted, Ezra soon learned that it was nowhere in town. Their journey took them out of Charleston. They were some distance away from the city with the lights twinkling in the distance behind them, when Charles directed them off the cobbled path leading to town onto a dirt track. Ezra wanted to ask where they were going but was prevented from doing so because of this facade of familiarity he was forced to maintain.  
  
However, they did not travel very far along the track when Charles brought his steed to a gradual halt.  
  
"What are you doing?" Ezra found himself compelled to ask as Charles reached into his saddlebag.  
  
"What do you think?" Jacob looked at him strangely and did the same thing. It took no more than a second for Ezra to realize what they were doing and somehow, seeing it did not surprise him in the least. After everything he had discovered today, this was just the icing on top of the cake. Ezra watched with well-concealed disgust as Charles and Jacob slipped on the white robes and the pointed hats that left no doubt as to the nature of the 'business' he was required to participate. It took him a further second to realize that he had to don on the same costume because the Ezra Standish that they believed him to be was a card-carrying member of the Ku Klux Klan. He hated the idea of putting on such clothing and he did not even want to imagine what specifically they intended to do tonight but for the moment, he had little choice. This was serious business and these men very particular about protecting themselves from what they perceived to be weak-willed traitors.  
  
After a moment of silent debate, Ezra decided he had no choice but to acquiesced to the wishes of the fold. Searching through the bags on his own saddle, he realized that there was a gun in a holster amongst the dreaded robes he was required to wear. Feeling the need to be armed now that he had some idea of what the rest of the night held in store for him, Ezra slipped on the gun belt and still felt dirty about wearing these robes over his normal clothes. It was even worse when he had to wear the hat, thinking to himself that he was glad that Nathan did not know him in this reality because Ezra could not look him in the eye after wearing this embodiment of racial hatred.  
  
"I'm ready for the evening's entertainment." Ezra said trying to sound natural when he loathed the idea of going along with this twisted charade. Though the material of the robes was thin, it still felt insufferable for reasons that were more than just physical. He felt the sweat forming in rivulets, plastering his clothes to his skin. As it was, he could not understand how they could see out of the narrow eye slits that came with these pointed hats. If anything fortified his resolve to leave this life behind him and head for the hills, it was this final nail in the coffin. He was never going to accept being apart of this kind of world where men rode around in white robes spreading terror in the name of white supremacy.  
  
"Good," Charles responded, although it was difficult to tell who was talking now that they were dressed like ghouls. "The others should be there by now."  
  
Ezra did not ask want to ask what was being planned for the evening but a terrible foreboding had started to fill his heart as they thundered up the dirt track to a destination that he understood as not being very far away. He knew the violence committed by men like these and he knew that if it came down to the crunch, large numbers or not, he refused to sit by and let them harm anyone.  
  
After a few minutes down the dirt road, Charles broke the line of trees that flanked the track and continued riding into the bush. They had not travelled very far along into the night when Ezra looked up to see the smoke billowing through the canopy of trees. He swore inwardly at the implications of what that meant and he prayed that it was a bonfire in celebration of something as he had witnessed after Serfonteine had conducted his campaign of terror on Four Corners.  
  
When he heard the screams of woman in the distance, Ezra knew it was anything but that.  
  
As they neared the source of the fire and the screaming, Ezra could hear more horses and voices amidst the woman's terrified wail. "What's going on?" He asked Charles as the trees began to thin, the nearer they reached the heart of the property.  
  
"We're taking care of this Washington business once and for all." Charles said as they emerged into the clearing of the Washington property.  
  
There were at least a dozen riders, moving through the place. The sky was emblazoned with amber light from the flaming pyre of the main house. Ezra could hear the screeching fear of animals inside the barn. The roof of the structure was also in flames and it was obvious that the building could collapse at any moment. However it was not the chaos that had Ezra searching the scene frantically. It was the woman's scream.  
  
When he found her, he could only stare. Suddenly, Ezra was faced with what would have happened to Alex that night if he had not been present to help her escape from Lamont. Mrs. Washington was on the ground before the house, screaming and sobbing with horror at what was being done to her. Her children was weeping as they watched their mother being violated by two men in robes who had not the decency to show their faces as they took pleasure in the sadistic urges.  
  
"God." He whispered softly, his voice drowned by the noises around him. Ezra came to the first decent decision he had made since he stepped into this nightmare. Whatever the consequences to himself, he was not letting this atrocity continue. He could not more let it happen then than he could allow it to take place now.  
  
With everything to lose and only a life to gain, Ezra kicked his heels into his horse and sent it racing towards Mrs. Washington.  


* * *

_**BUCK** _

  
Buck Wilmington thought he would never live to see the day when he could admit that perhaps his animal magnetism was not all that it was cracked up to be. He had barely escaped from Alexandra Styles' clinic with his hide intact, well his hide would have been fine but his virtue would not. The memory of her lips against his was still fresh in his mind and he had no idea that the mercurial doctor was capable of such passion. It was no wonder Vin was walking around with a perpetual smile on his face. God, the woman was incredible and that was just a kiss. He wondered what she was like on an even more intimate level.  
  
Don't go there Buck, he warned himself and decided after a moment that it was very sound advice. He had fled from her clinic, hurrying through the streets while trying to avoid every woman in town who seemed to be watching his move like he was the tastiest thing on the table. Suddenly, he had some idea of what a woman must go through and could appreciate what Inez endured on a daily basis at the saloon with men pawing all over her even though her heart lay elsewhere and she had reputation to maintain. Not that it would matter very soon since he had ever intention of marrying her, once this crazy pheromone thing was taken care of.  
  
Deciding that it was best that he lay low for the time being, Buck chose to return to his lodgings, perfectly content to lock himself away for the duration while he figured what he was going to do. However, when he reached the main entrance of the lodging house, Buck saw a group of women pacing the floorboards under the awning, as if waiting in expectation for something. When they looked up and saw him, eyes widening, lustful gazes apparent by their parted lips and the relief at seeing him, he realized his problem was far greater than he had ever imagined.  
  
"BUCK!" They squealed almost in unison. Buck saw them taking a step towards him and decided he was not sticking around for this. Before they could get too close to get a bead on him, he ran back up the way he came and threw the pursuing horde off his trail by ducking into the woodshed behind the lodging house. He was certain that they had not seen him make his unceremonious entry into the small shack and Buck found himself peering through the cracks of the walls to see where the group was going. They hurried past in a cloud of girlish giggles and almost manic chanting of his name before disappearing up the path he had just taken when he fled from Alex. Buck remained in the shadows, taking a deep breath and steadying his racing pulse as he tried to work out his next move.  
  
When he deemed it to be safe to emerge, the big man stepped into the light once more, looking around furtively to ensure that no other female was in the vicinity. The backstreet behind the lodging house was for the moment, devoid of the opposite sex and the lawman raced into the building before anything else happened. Fortunately the lodgers who resided here were predominantly male so he would not have to worry about running into any lustful women on his way to his room. Buck hurried up the stairs at breakneck speed, wondering if Vin would not mind putting him up a few days in Chris' shack. He certainly could not stay here with the entire female population of Four Corners including the loves of his best friends, volunteering to be his personal harem.  
  
Reaching the floor where his room was situated, Buck was grateful to see that all was quiet in the hallway. There was not the sight of one flounced skirt or a whiff of intoxicating perfume that could entice him to throw caution to the winds. As Buck slipped into the familiar surroundings of his room, he let out a sigh of relief at the temporary respite. He had always dreamed of this happening to him, not that he had any trouble gaining companionship. His animal magnetism was strong enough to ensure that he seldom spent his nights alone. Of course, it never worked with Inez and Alex had until this point seen him as nothing more than a friend. In fact, preceding her attachments with Ezra and Vin, the doctor had been quite amused by his attempts to flirt with her. Now, she was throwing herself at him, like they were all throwing were as if God was playing some horrible joke on him since he had made his mind up to settle down with Inez and their child.  
  
Their child.  
  
Despite his present predicament, Buck really liked the sound of that. He looked forward to the birth of a son or a daughter. He would like a son because Buck felt he had more too teach a boy and it was too much work protecting a girl from men like him. After a few seconds, he realized it would just serve him right to have a daughter, as if some cosmic force for justice had deemed it the appropriate punishment for all the hell he had given to the fathers of the women he pursued. Buck locked the door behind him and dropped the key onto a nearby table before advancing further into the room . He had not taken more than a few steps when suddenly, he heard a voice speak in warm, seductive tones.  
  
"Hello Buck."  
  
Buck looked up with wide-eyed surprise to find Julia Pemberton on his bed. It took a few more seconds for him to survey the situation to know that she was not dressed. Indeed, as he made this discovery, he noticed her clothes were draped neatly across the chair beside the bed. Her copper coloured haired was loose against her creamy coloured shoulders and Buck could see the curves of her body beneath the thin layer of the cotton sheet that covered her body. She gazed at him with those incredible eyes and left him no doubt as to what she wanted of him, although her being naked in his room seemed to be a dead giveaway of her intentions.  
  
He had died and gone to hell.  
  
"Julia?" He stammered never believing he could be so afraid in his entire life. "What are you doing in here?" He almost squeaked.  
  
"What do you think?" She smiled and pulled the sheet aside. "I paid your landlady a bribe to get me in here. I needed to see you alone, Buck."  
  
Buck felt his inside melt like butter when he saw her lying on his bed, absolutely naked as the day she came into the world, from every perfect curve of her pale skin to the plum coloured shade of her erect nipples, taut with arousal waiting for him. Buck was unable to keep his eyes from moving over the length of her, admiring the splendor of her flesh as she climbed out of his bed, with the slender grace of some feline creature.  
  
"What about Ezra?" He spoke up because he felt himself faltering. He hoped mentioning Ezra's name would knock some sense into her before she made him do something he would regret after he had satisfied this insane craving that was rising from his gut and threatening to drive all good sense from his mind in a fit of total lust.  
  
"What about Ezra?" She asked as she sauntered towards him, sex oozing from every seductive move in her approach towards him. She paused inches from him and Buck took the opportunity to admire her magnificent form in even closer proximity. Her hand snaked around his neck, painfully slow as she coiled her arm around him and pulled herself against his mouth. Instinctively, Buck reacted as he felt her tongue probing past his teeth, drawing him into a kiss of such intense desire that he could do nothing but savour her mouth plundering his for everything it was worth.  
  
When she pulled away from him, Buck felt himself gasping for air, having become dizzy for the effects of that devastating kiss. However, Julia was far from ending this torture. She pulled open his shirt and started planting soft kisses down his chest in a descent that he felt every inch of the way. Her mouth laved his skin she slid down his body, teasing the velvet skin of his stomach before her hands started working the buttons of his pants.  
  
As he felt each button pop under her seductive ministrations, Buck felt his heart pounding with a mixture of terror and forbidden desire. By the time, her lips stood poised over his cock, ready to take it into his mouth, Buck knew that if he did not pull away now, he was never going to. Ezra like Vin was his friend and like Vin, Ezra would kill him if Buck allowed Julia to do what she was doing now because God, he wanted to let her to so much.  
  
"Julia!" He said bending over and pulling her away from his aching manhood that practically screamed in protest at him when he made his withdrawal. "This ain't what you want honey." He said hastily as he did the buttons on his pants and stepped further away from her, his eyes trying very hard not to notice that she was naked. "It's my animal magnetism," he tried to explain as he searched for the key he had tossed onto the table when he first entered the room. "It's making you crazy! I mean don't get me wrong," he stuttered. "You're a very beautiful woman and the next time I see you, I'm never going to be able to look at your face without imagining the rest of you but this ain't right."  
  
"Of course it is Buck," she said trying to envelop him in her arms again. "I want you. I've always wanted you. You're an animal Buck," she gushed as he scrambled for the key and ran to the door, desperate to get out of the room. "I need an animal," she said lustily. "I need you."  
  
Buck did not wait to hear any more. No sooner than the door opened, he was running for dear life down the hallway, trying to ignore the raging erection caused by the arousal of Julia Pemberton's naked form. However, he was willing to suffer a little discomfort to escape the insanity of what had almost happened in his room. He had thought that walking away from Alex had been difficult but Julia was pure seduction and what she did with her lips was a gift that ought to be shared with the rest of mankind for the good of humanity. At least he had managed to walk away from her albeit a little later than he should have but he was human after all. Still, he was pleased with himself that he had not succumbed and knew that there was nothing more they could throw at him to shake his iron clad resolve. Pheromone or not, he was not falling prey to any more women, Buck did not care how beautiful they were.  
  
Rounding the corner of the hallway, he ran into another familiar face and knew that God was out to get him killed today.  
  
"Why Buck, I was just looking for you." Mary Larabee said with a smile.  


* * *

_**JD**_  
  
For all his brave talk, they could smell his fear.  
  
J.D. tried his hardest to wear the same mask of indifference Chris Larabee wore with such mastery that it intimidated most men to look at the gunslinger let alone be foolish enough to draw a weapon against him. Jonah Carlisle's friend, whatever their names were, glared back at him, waiting for the first man to draw his gun and begin the shooting. J.D. knew that he would be facing these men alone, that he would not have Buck or the others to cover his back. However, there was something in him that had surfaced since learning that somehow, through the impossibility of all things real, he had woken up in a nightmare that claimed he had murdered everyone who meant anything to him. Those he had not killed had turned away in revulsion of what he had become. The irony of it all was, this was exactly what J.D. had travelled to the Territory to become.  
  
The best.  
  
Inwardly, he knew he no longer cared whether he lived or died because all that made him J.D. Dunne was as dead as the bearer of the pocket watch he had no right to wear in his jacket. They flashed in front of his eyes, the friends whose lives he had somehow taken. It was not so much that he remembered nothing about killing or causing their deaths by his actions, it was the shame of knowing that he had that ambition inside him, so raw and naked that it would allow him to cast aside their friendship in the name of glory. His mother would have been sickened to know that she sweat and cried tears of blood to give him everything just so he could carry so much darkness inside him.  
  
Across the main street of Four Corners where the jailhouse sat in attendance over the town, people were getting off the street, scattering into the nooks and crannies of their homes and any structure that might offer sufficient shelter until the shooting was done. It was a ritual that they were well aware of and had practiced with almost weary routine since J.D. Dunne had taken up the Silver Star that made him law in this town. He was vaguely aware of them disappearing and felt some measure of relief knowing that they would be safe from the crossfire. Even the men who sought his head understood that it was only right that they allow the innocent bystanders time to put some distance between them and the coming gunfight.  
  
All the while as the scene for their eminent confrontation moved its props into place so the setting would be just perfect for their final performance, the gunfighters stared at each other. Those watching, likened the scene to that of a pack of wolves defending against a lone rogue, all hungry with the same streak of primal rage about to be unleashed. J.D.'s hands remained poised over both his guns as his eyes surveyed the odds against him. There were four, no five he counted again, five men waiting to take his head for the death of the man called Carlisle, whom J.D. had no memory of killing, just as he had no memory of gunning down Chris Larabee or handing Vin Tanner to a bounty hunter.  
  
He remembered what Buck taught him and knew that he was vulnerable because he was out in the open. The jailhouse was still the nearest structure he could reach when the firefight broke and he needed cover. The water through for the horses would offer him protection for maybe one or two bullets. If these men had any skill, the third would finish him. Immediately, J.D. started searching for places that would provide him with alternate cover should the need arise. He saw a few places just as he saw where the men who were before him could go for similar shelter. Chris had once said that to get out alive one had to pay attention to the details. Most people did not know that when Chris was quietly staring down a man, he was not merely sizing up his opponent, he was seeing where the man could run and hide so Chris could stop him before he got there.  
  
A hot wind blew across his cheek, carrying grains of sand as it swept through town, J.D. showed no reaction. His eyes were fixed on the leader, knowing the others would take their cue from him when the shooting finally started. If there was anyone on the street now, they were making themselves might quiet for J.D. could hear nothing and behind him except that harsh wind that had probably blown in from the desert.  
  
"You killed Carlisle." The leader said again, breaking the silence that was all consuming.  
  
"If you say so." J.D. replied, seeing no reason to denying it. He probably had killed this person. His memory was not what it used to be in this time and place.  
  
"He was my brother." The man glared at him, his teeth bared like an animal about to lunge.  
  
"I'm sorry about that. I did what I had to." J.D. lied. In truth, he had no idea what circumstances had prompted him to kill this man's brother but an apology seemed appropriate even though he knew things had progressed beyond that. Apologies did not carry much weight in the west and the only way to settle a slight of this magnitude was an apology of the gun.  
  
"You murdered him!" The man hissed and went for his gun.  
  
J.D. reacted just as swiftly, knowing he had nothing to lose had given him an edge he had never believed could make him so fast. His gun was drawn before his opponent could pull the trigger. J.D. pulled the trigger after taking careful aim and lunged towards the water trough as the other with him opened fire. He did not see where his bullet went as he scrambled behind the rectangular length of wood. He heard the bullet from Carlisle's gun explode and whiz past his arm but it was never close enough to do any damage.  
  
He had thirty seconds maybe to utilized the cover offered by the trough. With both guns drawn, he rolled onto his knee as he landed and pulled the trigger with equal speed in the direction of the other four men. They had run for cover as he had expected, taking refuge behind all the places he had scouted earlier.  
  
J.D. quickly studied the path to the jailhouse where he would have to relocate and check the positioning of the men who was close enough to stop him from getting there. One man was running for the nearby hardware store and J.D. trained both guns on him, unwilling to let him drag a civilian into his mess by taking the fight there.  
  
As he pulled the trigger, he heard a bullet impact against the wood of the trough and quickly scrambled out of its path, knowing another would soon follow in its place when the shooter adjusted his aim. Chris had never liked shooting a man in the back and neither did J.D. He had almost jeopardized his entire relationship with Chris Larabee before it could even begin when J.D. had tried to put a bullet in a man's back during their first meeting. Instead of shooting his present opponent down in that dishonorable way, both bullets from his gun slammed into the man's legs, in particular his knees. He uttered a wail of pain because a shattered knee was indeed a painful injury, before he collapsed on the steps leading to the store, his guns falling from his hands as he went down.  
  
Another bullet entered the trough, splinters of wood exploded outwards from the exit point, only inches away from him. His time was up, he had to move. Firing both guns to offer himself cover as he emerged from the impotent protection of the water trough, he laid down a hail of suppressing fire as he ran towards the jailhouse at breakneck speed. Ezra had always told him to keep a close eye on his bullets because there was nothing worse or more fatal than firing without knowing what was left in the chamber. He knew his ammunition was low and would have to last him until he reached cover.  
  
He trained his guns at specific targets, firing at the man who was taking cover behind horses and appeared to be his last obstacle to reaching the jailhouse. Taking careful aim, J.D. squeezed off a round and caused the animals the man was using as a shield to pull away frantically from the danger. As it was they were quite skittish, trying desperately to untether themselves and flee but the final bullet so close to their ears, pushed them over the edge. They broke up their close gathering and gave enough gap in the man's protection to allow J.D. a clear shot. Knowing he had only a finite amount of bullets, J.D. put him down quickly.  
  
The bullet tore through the man's skull and dropped him where he was standing. The back of his head exploded as the bullet made its exit, grey matter scattering in all directions as he fell backwards. J.D. heard someone scream his name and swung around to the direction of the voice. Without even looking, J.D. kept fired again and the voice was cut short abruptly. Suddenly, a bullet slammed into his shoulder. He felt the pain flare in his arm and uttered a soft grunt of pain. He almost released his grip on his weapon but with resolve he did not know he possessed, J.D. swung around hard and emptied what was left in his guns at the man who had fired. The last man had been hiding behind some crates and J.D. finished during the narrow margin of time during his emergence to fire shoot again.  
  
The two bullets tore into his chest, tearing through fabric and spurting blood from the wounds as he fell slumped forward once the dying was done. J.D. wasted no time because he was unsure of anything at this point and he was unwilling to risk facing it with empty guns. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he quickly reloaded both guns, lest the enemy was not as dead as he might believe and decided upon an encore performance, in which case he would be severely disadvantaged if he his guns were empty. J.D. could feel the slick warmth of blood running down his arm, not to mention the pain of hot lead in his flesh.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a sound behind him. Without thinking, he swung around and fired once.  
  
The shot followed a scream.  
  
"JOSIAH!" He recognized the scream as Casey's.  
  
J.D. blinked and swung around. The preacher was standing only a few meters away form him, Josiah was staring at him with no signs of anger or fear, just resignation. The bullet had hit him in the chest and as the blood pulsed out of him with each beat of his dying heart, he merely looked at J.D. "I thought you could use the help." The man said quietly and then dropped to his knees before falling face down in the dirt.  
  
"What did you do!" Casey ran out of nowhere, her face covered in tears. "I begged him to come help you!" She wept as she ran to Josiah side. She looked no different than she did the last time he had seen her, when they had gone fishing at Nettie's. She turned Josiah over and saw the fatal wound to his chest that was draining his life away. His eyes were still open, staring listlessly into the skies, no doubt searching for the crows that he always claimed would come for him some day.  
  
"I loved you!" She said fiercely, speaking through her tears as her hand became soaked in Josiah's blood. "I loved you even after what you did to Vin, even after Chris! Aunt Nettie threw me out because I believed there was something inside you that was still J.D.!" She looked at Josiah and stared at him with anguish in her eyes. "He said you were different this morning, that you were actually sorry. When the Carlisles came into town, I convinced him that you needed help! Now I have to wear his blood on my hands because of you!"  
  
J.D. Dunne hardly heard a word Casey was saying. All he could do was stare at Josiah. Dead Josiah. Murdered Josiah. Not even Josiah who committed a crime. Josiah who had tried to help him. Josiah who had against his better judgement, followed his heart by believing J.D.'s story only to have J.D. put a bullet through it. There was no point in saying that he had not meant for this to happen because it was a deed done, Josiah was dead and J.D. Dunne had killed him. Like he killed all the others.  
  
"No more J.D.!" Casey ran after him. "I'm through with you!" She hissed as she stood in front of him.  
  
J.D. looked into her eyes and saw the tears running down her cheeks, looking as desolate as she no doubt felt. He almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Leaning down, he planted a kiss on her lips, a soft lingering kiss. Her anger melted from her face, replaced by confusion.  
  
"You should have been done with me long before this." He said softly and kept walking.  


* * *

_**NATHAN** _

 

  
It was cold but they had to keep moving.  
  
He could see Rebecca shivering but he could not let her rest, nor could they leave the river they were using to mask their scent from the dogs. They had left the main hunting party behind now, although the barking of dogs could still be heard in the far distance. Taking Zeus' earlier advice, they had kept to the river and tried to cover as much distance as possible on their exodus from Georgia. So far, they had gone unseen by anyone as the dark and the uncertain terrain of the river made it difficult for them to be tracked by animal or man. However, they could heard their hunters and had seen the burning torches of slavers as they continued up the river.  
  
Serfonteine was an experienced enough slaver to know that the easiest way for a runaway slave to escape to the north would be by making an attempt to reach the railway lines that would take them quickly to the north. Nathan had no intention of being that predictable, thus he was taking this route, which would mean the expenditure of more time and a harder journey to the north but at least it might throw Serfonteine off the track long enough for Nathan and Rebecca to get out of Georgia.  
  
"Nathan I'm so cold." Rebecca shivered as they stayed close to the reeds and foliage that flanked the river as they progressed up its meandering length.  
  
Nathan had tried to keep his eyes open, hoping they could spot a boat or something that might make the journey easier but so far nothing like that had come into sight and he was starting to get worried. While the river route was unquestionably the best way to proceed, he could see she was starting to get really tired. They had been travelling this way for some hours now and even his own toes were starting to get numb. Only the iciness of the water had kept the ache from fully penetrating in his mind. He knew they could not keep this up indefinitely because eventually, they would be in danger of getting sick and that was the one thing that neither of them could afford at the moment. It was still a long way to Kentucky and they had to find Josiah yet and convince him to take them across the border to the north. He had no idea what had prompted the preacher to help him that night but he prayed that Josiah would not hesitate to do so again. The man Josiah had been in those days was not so different from the one whose path he had crossed again in Four Corners.  
  
"I know Becky," he swallowed, trying to keep his teeth from chattering and watched her clutching herself as she tried not to tremble from the chill of icy water. "But we gotta keep moving like this. The dogs can't pick us if we move by water, remember? Besides, it will all be worth it when we get to the north." He said, continuing to speak so that she could concentrate on the sound of his voice and not the cold that biting into both their skins.  
  
"I wonder what its like up there?" She mused, daring to hope that there might be something better beyond this existence of theirs. She had always believed it and until today had often found herself being the one who was always trying to convince her rather somber brother about it.  
  
"No different from here." He said, seeing no reason to lie to her. "People still hate us but at least we're free to do what we will. This man we're meeting will take care of us for a spell until I can join the army and take care of us both."  
  
"Who is he Nathan?" She asked. In private, they always called each other by the names given to them by their father. Fortunately, the master had liked her name and allowed her to keep it, unlike Nathan, which was apparently too Christian a name for nigger slave.  
  
"His name is Josiah," Nathan answered. His eyes moving across the shore, trying to see any evidence of bright torches that were indicative of the slave hunters that had dogged them earlier and just about anyone else who might catch enough of a glimpse of them and alert others to their presence. Their survival depended on their making it out of Georgia. Once they were out of the state, Serfonteine's resources to recapture them would dwindle significantly. He could not afford to have his overseer away from the plantation for an indefinite period of time. Eventually, if Rebecca and Nathan could stay at large long enough, Serfonteine would have to turn over the duties for their retrieval to professional slave hunters. Hopefully by the time that happened, they would be in the north and the war would have started.  
  
"How did you meet him?" Rebecca inquired, knowing that there was something that Nathan was not telling her. Her brother's ability to lie to her had never been good and each time they discussed this escape, she knew there was something he was holding back. If she did not know any better, Rebecca could almost believe that he was afraid of telling her.  
  
"I just did that's all." He said evasively. Nathan hated lying to her but he did not think the truth would be any more well received then the fabrication he was attempting to pass off in its place.  
  
"Nathan," she swallowed, remembering what he she had heard him say earlier. Although there was an unreality about the argument he had used to sway Zeus in the wagon, Rebecca knew enough about her brother to realize that he had honestly believed what he was saying, in particular about her death at the master's hands. Only then had she understood why he was willing to risk both their lives in such a daring escape. "Please I need to know the truth."  
  
She was fourteen years old and Nathan loved her more than anything in the world during their time in slavery. When he had lost her, his world had turned grey and nothing made sense until he walked into that hospital room and discovered the gift that made him whole again. He supposed if there was any one person in the world who would believe what he was about to say, it would be Rebecca because in this time and place, she was still the only thing that meant more to him than his life.  
  
"If I told you a fairy story would you believe it?" He asked, swallowing hard and trying not to let himself be overcome with the memories of what should be happening tonight, flood his mind. By all rights, she should be dead by now and he should be getting whipped by the master for daring to want revenge for her murder.  
  
"I believe anything you tell me Nathan," Rebecca said with a smile. "You're my brother."  
  
Nathan could not help smiling at that remark because for her, it was that simple. He was her brother and that made his word completely believable, no matter how far fetched a story he was about to tell her. "I dreamt that something very bad was going to happen tonight." He began, telling her as much of the truth as he deemed fit. "The master was gonna come for you and he was going to hurt you real bad. I know its going to happen, I know it like I know nothing else in my life. I believe it so much, I am willing to risk everything getting us north so that it doesn't happen. Do you understand?"  
  
Her brow knotted with acceptance, believing him because Nathan would never risk her life on a whim. If he truly believed her life was at stake then she trusted him to steer her safe. "And this man Josiah?"  
  
"He's a preacher." Nathan replied after a moment. "He's good man and in my dream," the healer spoke with a bittersweet smile of the way Josiah had taken a seventeen year old boy so filled with hate and taught him that not all men were bad and some were even worth dying for. "In my dream, he takes us north and he looks after us until the war comes and I become a soldier. I learn how to fix people when they're hurt."  
  
"You mean like a doctor?" She smiled.  
  
"Yeah," he whispered, overcome with emotion because it was future she had never seen, a future where her life would end tonight. "Like a doctor."  
  
"It will happen Nathan," she said in that way of hers that made him believe everything was going to be all right, no matter what the cost.  
  
Suddenly, his eyes shifted past her and the reeds behind amongst which they were taking refuge. Rebecca followed his gaze and saw what had captured his attention so abruptly. The boat was not very big and it seemed rickety but it had oars and would move quietly through the night, cloaked in the sounds of crickets and bullfrogs croaking their nocturnal songs. It would also get them out of the water. The boat was pulled up against the mud of the shore and seemed to belong to whomever dwelt in the log residence situated some a short distance inland.  
  
"Stay here." He instructed as he waded past her.  
  
Rebecca held her breath as Nathan emerged from the shadows of the long reeds that had kept them concealed for much of the day. His eyes studied the area cautiously, knowing how much rode on their spiriting the vessel away undetected. Even though he was seventeen years old, Nathan had the experience and the memories of a man who been in a war and had spent a great deal longer fighting to stay alive in one calamity after another. Reaching the boat, he pulled it back through the mud, making no sound except the soft slap of water against its side as he stepped back into the watery depths. Wood against the slick earth beneath it, brought no attention as Nathan pulled the boat farther from the shore until it was floating of its own volition above the dark waters of the river. Nathan climbed into easily and immediately set the oars to the water and started rowing towards her.  
  
"Becky!" He hissed. "Come on!"  
  
Rebecca looked at the shore and made certain no one was in sight before she started moving towards the boat that Nathan was rowing in her direction. She could not swim very well and was grateful that Nathan was meeting her part of the way. However, by the time he reached her she was standing on her tiptoes trying to keep her head over the water and was most grateful at his timely arrival. Grabbing the side of the boat to keep herself afloat, she waited until Nathan had set the oars aside and leaned over to help before she heaved herself over the side.  
  
After a few seconds of awkwardness, Nathan pulled his sister into the boat resumed his position at the head of the vessel so that he could continue rowing again. Rebecca let out a sigh of relief as she found herself back on somewhat dry land. Perhaps now, she could feel her toes again. Suddenly, the quiet of the night was broken by a rather excited cry.  
  
"Hey you! Bring that boat back here!" The man was screaming at them, waving his rifle at them in a warning to shoot.  
  
"Damn!" Nathan swore and rowed faster, trying to escape the reach of that gun as he saw the man raise the weapon and taken aim. Nathan never moved so fast in his life. His muscles groaned as he put more speed into his rowing. He looked at the shore and saw the man had beckoned others to come aid him in capturing those responsible for the theft as he stood on the edge, his gun poised to fire.  
  
"Becky get down!" Nathan ordered.  
  
She nodded frantically and was about to do as ordered when the gun went off and she uttered a little cry of pain.  
  
"Rebecca!" Nathan fairly screamed as he saw her fall forward, her body slumping over his as the boat drifted further and further away from its owners. The power behind Nathan's constant rowing propelled the boat forward on its own inertia, giving them the gap they needed if not too late. Nathan dropped the oars and took hold of his sister, his stomach hollowing at the sight of the wound on her body. She was bleeding profusely but she was still alive.  
  
At least that was something.  


* * *

_**INEZ** _

 

It was a beautiful day for a ride and as Inez left her village behind her with Raphael next to her as their horses rode into the warm afternoon sun, she found herself enjoying the company of the man more than she had ever expected. Of course, she had never seen him from this perspective before and was mildly surprised by his manner, which was not as silent or somber, as he was when he had ridden into Four Corners at the side of Don Paulo's son. Nevertheless, she had to remember that those events never happened and he was at this point, still a loyal member of the household not the hunted fugitive that he would be following the defense of his honour. He was of the old school, Inez decided, who believed that a man's honour should be his code. It was the kind of philosophy her father had adhered to, her mother had often said.  
  
"I think you are not as happy to be here as you might admit." He remarked, taking note of her far away expression as they journeyed across the dry landscape that held a beauty of its own to those who knew how to appreciate it.  
  
"I am sorry," she apologized, aware that she was quiet. "I am thinking whether or not it is time to see what is beyond this village."  
  
"An adventurer," he said with a faint smile, suspecting that a streak of non-convention had always existed in Inez Rosillios veins. "Where would you go if you leave this place?"  
  
"I don't know," she lied, knowing precisely where she would go when she finally left the village. In fact, that day was nearer than he knew. "Anywhere. A friend of mine once said that the world is more than just towns and farms. There are hills that run so far into the distance; they looked like oceans of green and mountains so tall that you could reach the ice in just a day." That was Vin Tanner described everything, Inez decided but he was not wrong. The world was that wonderful.  
  
"Your friend is correct." Raphael agreed almost as if he heard the thought in her head. "It is beautiful out there but it is also dangerous and it is not for the weak or the cowardly. To journey into it is one thing, to survive in it, is another." There was a sadness in his eyes as he said those words and she wondered why he was here in this small town, playing lackey to Don Paulo when a man of his honour could do anything.  
  
"Whey do you stay Raphael?" She asked, genuinely interested. She did not know where this curiosity was coming from but Inez could not deny that he was showing her facets of himself that were intriguing and she could not help but feel compel to understand him. "You are an educated man, you used to be an officer. Is there nothing more for you than the life of a gunmen?"  
  
He met her gaze and she saw his eyes softening over that question, as if no one had ever actually asked him that before even though he had spent much time in contemplation over that very issue. "I have nothing left out there. My family does not exist and honour is a fading into the dust, to be forgotten with all the old ways of our people. I fear I am past my time."  
  
"That is foolishness," she declared, not believing such nonsense for a second. "It is a sad world that has no use for a man of honour. You are a good and kind man Raphael, there is much out there you can do."  
  
"Perhaps I consider the village my home," he confessed. "I may be a gunmen in service to Paolo but I know everyone and they know me. I am accustomed to the place and I do not wish to wander alone. I have done that before and I do not recommend it."  
  
Inez who knew what it was like to be alone, to flee in the night with men chasing her, could appreciate that sentiment all too well. The irony of it was, it would be Raphael who was one of her pursuers. Now here she was, talking to him with such intimacy, it surprised her and she had a feeling it surprised him too. Despite her initial fear of him because of what he had been in her mind, Inez had not believed she could care for him. However, he was a good man and his honour was nothing he took lightly, he would risk everything for it and such men were rare. It saddened her to think that the loneliness he loathed so much would be exactly what he would suffer because he had chose to help her and Buck when the time had come for him to choose sides.  
  
"Loneliness does not last forever if you find your place in the world." Inez commented, knowing that in her reality she had found that special place that had she longed to return once again. She wanted to be home in Four Corners, fighting off drunks, telling Ezra to get off his behind and help her with the saloon and most of all; she wanted the baby that Buck Wilmington had helped her conceived. She wanted that child so much and it gnawed at her that an errant wish, motivated by fear and insecurity had taken it away from her.  
  
"Then this is my place." He answered.  
  
"I do not believe that." Inez looked at him. "I do not think you are happy here."  
  
"I am content." Raphael said looking away in the sun soaked horizon. "That is enough."  
  
There was a slight pause when neither spoke for a moment. She noticed that there was something in his manner that told her that he was wrestling with something unspoken as his eyes met hers with a tinge of anxiety. It was not something that she was used to seeing in his face for his equilibrium always appeared so centered as if there was never any doubt or uncertainty in his life. Inez had to admire him for that. She wished her own existence were so focused.  
  
"Inez," he finally responded. "Under normal circumstances, I would consult your father on this matter but since Senor Rosillios is no longer with us, I am unable to do this. Despite the matter of honour, I believe that is unnecessary that I speak to anyone else since it concerns you directly."  
  
"That would be wise," Inez looked at him puzzled, wondering what on earth he was trying to say.  
  
"I would like permission to court you."  


* * *

_**JOSIAH** _

  
Finding Audrey King had not been easy.  
  
Fortunately, Pastor Sanchez had a quite a good reputation in town and was able to utilize the contacts he had made with the local sheriff and newspaper editor, to find the woman. Three days after he had awoke in this topsy turvy world where his life was nothing that he recognized, Josiah Sanchez found himself rolling into the Wallace property, the family home of the Audrey and Lilith King. The town was called Cherrybrook and it was like all small towns, a homely place where everyone knew everyone. Josiah had set out as soon as he had been given the information, convinced that Lilith had the key to explaining how he had wound up in this strange reality where he was a preacher during all the years, he should have been in the wilderness.  
  
Although, he liked the notion of living a life where he had not strayed from the path he had dreamed of all his life, Josiah knew that he could not live a lie and this was a lie. The man he was could not continue as the man he was supposed to be and there was a deeper sense of obligation to the friends who might be trapped in the same conundrum that he was. His dreams were relatively docile in their intensity but he knew something of the friends he rode with and could not say that their fantasies might be as pleasant. He had no idea whether or not that within the walls of their prison, they were making similar efforts to break free but while he was in his, Josiah was going to do everything to see to it that he escape.  
  
It was not difficult to find the King property, a few well placed questions and he was riding towards the place, located on the outskirts of town. The gossip he had garnered during his inquiries after the Kings spoke of a recent bereavement. He recalled Mary saying something about the late Mr. King and assumed that things had gone pretty much the same way for the schoolmistress in this reality as well. Josiah himself had never met the woman even though she had been town for some weeks now. He supposed that it was not hard to do when his role as lawman often had him and his companions riding from one place to another to deal with the multitude of problems that seemed to tumble into Four Corners' stead on a regular basis.  
  
The house reminded him of one of those homesteads he had seen during his time up north. It looked very much like the proper New England home with the large attics and Imperial influenced architecture. Josiah wondered what he would say to the woman and decided anything that did not get the door slammed in his face was a good beginning. As he made his way past the white picket fence and stepped onto the cobbled walk leading to the house, he noticed that the wagon was half filled with belongings and it had all the signs of someone making an eminent departure.  
  
Josiah knocked on the door once and upon hearing the clattering and banging on the other side of it, chose to repeat it just in case he was not heard over that loud din. He felt extremely grateful that he had caught the Kings now because it appeared as if they were moving away fairly soon. After a few seconds, the door swung open and Josiah found himself facing a woman in her early forties with dark auburn hair and almost crystal coloured blue eyes. For a second, he could say nothing for he had been expecting an old battleaxe with a ruler in hand rapping knuckles at a moment's notice. Instead, she wore a lovely smile on her face and Josiah found himself wondering what she must have look like as a girl, if she was this handsome now.  
  
"Yes?" She stared at him.  
  
"Mrs. King?" He ventured a guess.  
  
"Yes, I am Audrey King. What can I do for you, Pastor?"  
  
"Josiah Sanchez," he introduced himself, not all feeling like a man of the cloth at the moment. "I need to speak with you privately."  
  
"This isn't really a good time," she confessed, opening the door wide enough to show him the chaos taking place inside the house. People were moving about, packing boxes and moving furniture from its usual place. It looked as if a mass exodus was taking place and she was trying to organize all of it.  
  
"I know it's an inconvenience." He urged. "Believe me, I've come a long way to see you and you're the only one who can help me."  
  
She raised her brow at that, somewhat intrigued despite her preoccupation with what was going on in her house. With a sigh, she stepped further out the door and shut it behind her. "Well, packing up is such a tedious chore anyway, I ought to be grateful you breezed in and liberated me from this ordeal." She flashed him a smile which Josiah thought was nothing less than radiant but kept it to himself for the moment, besides, he had more important things to discuss with her and no guarantee she would not call him a mad man.  
  
"Well what I'm about to say to you might sound insane and I would not blame you if you said so but I'm not crazy and I know I'm right." He replied earnestly.  
  
"Josiah, you have definitely inspired my utmost curiosity and so I do love a mystery. Take a turn with me would you? I'm going to be leaving this place forever and I might as well take the opportunity to take a final look at the place, while I have the time."  
  
It had been a while since someone asked him to take a turn with him and reminded himself that she was asking him to take a walk with her. "Certainly." He said grateful that she was willing to listen. "You lead the way."  
  
There was a creek not far from the house she informed him and they were soon strolling towards it. Once they were a suitable distance into their walk, Josiah finally decided to come out with what he had travelled so far to tell her. "I guess there is no way to say this, so I'm just going to come out and say it."  
  
"Surprise me Josiah." She smiled as if nothing could faze her. Josiah hoped that was true.  
  
"I woke up three days ago and had no idea where I was. I remember being a lawmen in Four Corners, a small town in the Territory with friends and a life. Now I find out that I'm a preacher and have been for some time. I know I'm not crazy because being a preacher is what I always wanted but knew I could never be that. It's just the man I am."  
  
"But now it's happened?" She looked at him, trying to hide her scepticism.  
  
Josiah could see the disbelief in her eyes and knew that he was not convincing her of anything, even though he had half expected as much anyway. "I know how it sounds but in that other life, I remember a conversation with a young boy name Billy Travis. He comes from Four Corners and a day or so before this all happened, he was asking me about magic spells, whether or not any of it was real."  
  
"You think a magic spell caused this sudden change?" She exclaimed as they walked past a row of cherry trees. The disbelief in her eyes was quite evident even though she still appeared amused by the whole notion.  
  
"I know it did." Josiah said firmly. "You have a daughter named Lilith, do you not?"  
  
"Yes, I do." Audrey replied, wondering what he was getting at.  
  
"I know she dabbles in the supernatural arts. Billy told me." Josiah announced.  
  
Audrey stopped walking as if he had made a revelation of great significance. She stared at him, her eyes narrowed in concentration, as if she was trying to decided whether or not he was mad and she ought to discontinue this encounter or hear him out and face learning something incredible. "No one is supposed to know that." She said softly.  
  
"Billy told me that Lilith believes in witches." He continued, hoping to say the words that would make her believe him because he needed her help. Josiah knew he could not do this alone. As it was, everything that he was saying to her was based on assumption, he had no real proof that Lilith was behind this sudden shift in reality. "Is that true?"  
  
Audrey shrugged and tried to understand how any of this could be happening. "You must understand that I indulge my daughter because I believe that knowledge is never evil, just the application of it. She has dreams my Lily and even though they are not conventional or Christian for that matter, I have never felt the need to suppress her desire to learn. I know that those afraid of change or the possibility of things beyond their own sphere of influence writes convention, so I swore I would never raise Lily that way. When she confessed this interest in the supernatural, I did not discourage it but I did warn her to keep it a secret and for most part, I am certain she has."  
  
Josiah knew that the admission had been a difficult one to make so he was not about to rebuke her for allowing her daughter the freedom to learn, even if that knowledge might have inadvertently caused this.  
  
"Billy told me that he was using the magic for good." Josiah explained further, hoping what scant information he had might be able to prompt her own ideas into being. "I believe he was trying to grant a wish. I always wished to be a preacher that could do God's work without questioning the need to turn the other cheek and it's precisely what I got."  
  
"I still don't believe any of this," she said as they reached the banks of the creek that meandered past them. The setting was idyllic and Josiah took in the sight of the flowers in bloom and the landscape of lush green fields. "But Lily has been hiding herself in the attic ever since she found that damn book."  
  
Audrey was not superstitious but this man knew things about her daughter that no one could possibly be aware. When Audrey had given Lily the warning about her new hobby, her daughter had already understood the need to conceal her fascination from others. While Audrey was still unwilling to believe that Lily's dabbling could be the cause of Josiah's trouble, she was not so obtuse to deny him her help. The book had been locked away for a reason and while she was a schoolteacher who dealt in fact, she was astute enough to believe that she did not know everything.  
  
Josiah looked at her. "Book?"  
  
"Yes," Audrey nodded. "It's been in my family for generations, sitting in a locked trunk in the attic. If we had not decided to move, we would never have investigated its contents and found it. Ever since we discovered it, Lily has been fascinated with it."  
  
"It would help if I saw it." Josiah suggested.  
  
"I can do more than that." Audrey replied meeting his gaze. "I don't know whether you're insane or I am for helping you but there's an old woman who lives further down the road. Lily has been spending a lot of time with her lately. More than me anyway. I think she's a witch. If my daughter has twisted your life in some way, Morag would be the one to find out."  
  
They returned to the house where Audrey discreetly told the relative that were helping her move that she had some business with the pastor. Her daughter was presently at school, which was just as well because Audrey did not want a scene when she retrieved the book that Lily had hidden in the attic. Upon entry into the girl's private bastion, the evidence of her amateur sorcery was evidenced inside the trunk where the book was kept. There were jars with all kinds of strange powders and what looked like animal parts along with fragrant herbs and trinkets.  
  
"Oh my God." Audrey groaned as she discovered the contents. "I'm raising a sorceress."  
  
Josiah had to admit it did look bad and thank the Lord that he was not a more pious man than he tried to be or else, his faith would have him demanding the child be burned at the stake. "Let's just get the book and find this Morag, you're talking about." He said gently, knowing that as much as she wanted to indulge her daughter, this was beyond acceptable even for her flamboyant manner.  
  
"I am so glad you're not really a preacher." Audrey said with wry smile.  
  
With that smile beaming in his direction, so was Josiah.  
  
Morag Bellingham lived in an old house not far from the Wallace property. She was an eccentric old woman who had lived in these parts for the better part of fifty years and remained reclusive even though she was one of the more colorful characters in town. People whispered about her being a witch even though no one actually dared to say it to her face in the rare occasions she turned up in town. For most part, Morag kept to herself even though she always donated pie to the church socials and was a regular participant in the congregation.  
  
Although Josiah felt that it was probably wise to have Lily present when they went to see the old woman, Audrey was adamant that her daughter not be involved in any more than she might have already done. Realistically, the child had done nothing in this reality but in the one that Josiah remembered, she had been responsible for a great deal. Yet he could understand Audrey's reasoning and had to respect the decision.  
  
Morag was not what Josiah expected of a witch. In fact, he did not know what to expect. He always thought of witches as wizened old crones, riding brooms.  
  
However Morag was nothing of the sort, she seemed like any respectable woman and she was most cordial about inviting them in when they appeared on her doorstep. However, as she led them into the house, she kept staring at Josiah as if there was something about him that was compelling.  
  
"Morag," Audrey spoke once they had sat down and the old woman had fixed them a pot of tea. It was all so civilized and completely beyond his expectations. "Josiah believes that Lilith might be responsible for casting some kind of reality bending spell. I don't know what to believe Morag and after what I found in the trunk today, I don't think I know my daughter that well either."  
  
Morag met his gaze and nodded slowly. "I can sense it you know." She looked at him. "The enchantment."  
  
"You believe me then?" He said surprised that it would take so little effort to convince her. He had expected disbelief like he had received from Audrey.  
  
"Of course I do." She answered firmly. "I do not often speak of my perceptions but I felt it the moment I saw you. What exactly has happened?"  
  
Josiah explained to her what had happened since he woke up three days ago, from the displacement of his life to the conversation he had shared with Billy that eventually led him to Audrey and her daughter. Morag listened carefully, taking note of everything said as if it would play a great part in her ruminations later on. When Josiah was finally done, the woman let out a long held sigh as if she were decided what to do.  
  
"When she showed me the book," Morag began, "I warned her about using it. Of course in this sphere, she has done nothing but in the world you remember, she dabbled in an incantation that is very old and very powerful. She has potential your daughter and in her youthful innocence, such power is raw and untamed. It can shape the world or tear it apart."  
  
Audrey sucked in her breath as if the knowledge was too much to bear. She had no idea what she had unleashed when she allowed her daughter access to the book. "All this because of a book?" She whispered.  
  
"You must understand that it is not merely a book," Morag emphasized. "It is a grimoire, a book of shadows. It is written by those who practice the arcane arts with more skill than I will ever know."  
  
"Can you help me?" Josiah asked, far more interested in results than portents of a faith that was so far removed from his own.  
  
"I can open the door for you." Morag replied meeting his eyes. "You will have to walk the mists."  
  
"We," Audrey said without hesitation. "We will walk the mists."  
  
"I can't ask you to do that." Josiah looked at her. "This is my problem, not yours."  
  
She was trying to hide her fear but it was apparent in her eyes. "If Lily is the cause of all this then I have to go. As her mother, I don't have a choice."  
  
Josiah was not about to argue with her because he was afraid himself and for once, the company of someone other than God would be good in the journey he was about to take.  
  
Into the mists.


	6. Into the Mists

_**CHRIS** _

 

Chris Larabee felt disconnected.

  
He did not hear when Fowler shouted his warning to stay back and he certainly did not care when he heard the gun went off. He paid enough attention to get out of its way, unwilling to die before he paid Sarah and Adam's killers in kind.  
  
Ignoring the feeling of hot lead slamming into his arm, Chris hardly registered the injury or the pain that accompanied it. When he heard Sarah scream her last, whatever it was inside him that still felt and wept for her demise simply detached itself from the rest of him. He was on top of Fowler before the assassin had the chance to pull the trigger again. The pain in his arm did not exist, nothing did but this intense need for vengeance that would be far from satisfied, even after Fowler was dead.  
  
Chris ripped the gun away from the man and tossed it aside before Fowler had a chance to fire again or run for that matter. The weapon fell away into the darkness and Chris paid little attention as to where it landed. Fowler prepared to attach but no sooner than he made the attempt, Chris' swatted his hand out of the way and grabbed the man by the throat. As his fingers enclosed around the assassin's neck, Chris tightened his fist into a ball with as much power as he could channel to his vise like grip. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, allowing himself to slip over the edge of the maw and fall headlong into the dark sea of his rage. Everything that he was went with him. Sarah, Adam, Buck and now his life. They were all that kept him bound to what he had been, kept him secure on the edge of darkness. Everything that was Chris Larabee died with the family and friend that he loved so much. What was left wanted vengeance and would be satisfied with nothing less.  
  
He was aware of gurgling sounds that might have been choking but he did not listen closely. There were instances when he felt hands other than his own trying to prise his fingers away from flesh but the attempts did not last long because Chris did not intend to let go, not for anything. After a few minutes, when the rasping and the strangled cries reached apogee, they withered away all together and all he could hear in the wake of that silence, was the cackling of fire as it destroyed what was left of the Larabee home.  
  
Chris opened his eyes then and saw Fowler dead in his grip. His hand was slick from the regurgitated fluids of Fowler's final gasps. The blood ran down his hand from the man's open mouth, soiling the sleeve of his duster and seeping into the grass as it fell to earth in pregnant drops of dark crimson. Chris let him go then, allowing Fowler to collapse on the ground, feeling no satisfaction whatsoever in taking his life. This man had destroyed everyone who had ever meant anything to Chris Larabee. Chris knew he should have been feeling something but he did not. If it could be called an emotion, then what he felt was emptiness. It was a most curious sensation for he could feel nothing. No anger, no rage, no pain, just that overwhelming emptiness. Its depth was so penetrating that nothing could fill it while Ella Gaines, the real architect of this entire nightmare still breathed.  
  
He walked away from Fowler and returned to this horse. His blue eyes, almost obsidian in its coloured, searched the hills surrounding his property and tried to guess which would be the most advantageous point from which she could view the contracted murder of his wife and child. He had remembered from that other life, the one that was as lost to him as this one, that she had wanted to watch because later, she would collect her souvenirs for the event.  
  
He climbed on his horse and rode away, knowing that she was somewhere in the woods and he had to find her. She had boasted that she had stayed for the entire thing, until the house was nothing but cinders and she was able to sift through the ash and find her mementoes. It did not take him long to find her. He was single minded in his purpose and he was guided by something far more accurate that instinct. He was no longer thinking about Sarah and Adam and how he had failed them both. It was a testament to just how numb he felt because Buck's death was similarly distant.  
  
There was one way up and down the ridge that Ella was using as her private viewing gallery while she watched the death of his family and friends. Once Chris caught sight of the tracks in the ground leading to the peak, he knew without doubt that it was she who had made them. Dismounting from his own horse, he made the rest of the journey on foot. There was no way he was allowing her to get away. Chris moved through the trees, moving with stealth that would make Vin Tanner proud. He could hear her horse neighing and stamping its feet whenever the need took it and immediately closed in on that sound.  
  
When he finally reached the top of the ridge and broke through the line of bushes and shrubs, he had his shotgun poised and ready to fire. He knew that the moment he stepped out from the cover of vegetation, that rustle of branches and leaves would give him away. Chris cocked the trigger and stepped out, making the very sounds he knew would alert her to his presence. Ella turned around the instant she heard the sound but Chris was ready for her. Pulling the trigger the moment she discovered he was there, her startled face was eclipsed by the roar of a shotgun blast.  
  
Ella let out a short scream as her horse buckled underneath her, mortally wounded as Chris had intended. Unable to remain as the blast had injured its leg, the animal crumpled to the ground, throwing its rider off as it vainly attempted to remain on its feet before an agonized bray of pain signaled the futility of it. Chris watched without emotion as the creature landed heavily on the woman, pinning her under the weight of its body. Ella struggled to crawl from under the body, crying out in pain at the weight pressing down on her. He continued watching as her cries of frustration grew more frantic as was her attempts to pull herself free. Eventually, he stepped out and into the moonlight, where she could see him. The sound of his boots against the gravel brought Ella's gaze to bear on him.  
  
"Chris!" She gasped and then saw his eyes and understood in that moment just how far she had pushed him. "Chris," she swallowed trying to reach through that fog in his mind, to penetrate the rage that was aching to hurt her. "You don't understand, I did for you. For us! She was in the way."

  
"Was Adam in the way too?" He asked, his voice was just as dark as the rest of him.  
  
"He would have held you down. We didn't need a child! When this is all over, you'll see that I am right." She implored, dirt covering her cheeks as she groveled in the dirt, trying desperately to escape because she was aware now that she had awakened something inside him that was not even Ella in all her obsession had believed existed.  
  
Chris said nothing for her words bounced of him and had little power over him. He strode forward and sank his hand into her blond hair before yanking her back viciously. She screamed in pain as he pulled her from under her trapped position by the hair, keeping as firm a grip upon her as he had done on Fowler a short while ago. Ella struggled to break free, frightened now at what had been unleashed but Chris was not about to let her go. He dragged her to her feet and made him face her.  
  
"Chris I love you." She begged as he maintained a clenched fist over her hair. "I did it for you."  
  
"I'm sure you did." He said quietly and hauled her to the edge of the ridge. Beneath them, there was a panoramic view of the house, still burning into the night. The sky was emblazoned with rich colours of amber and crimson, almost mesmerizing in its reflection against the indigo sky. He could not see the bodies of Buck or Fowler for that matter but he knew there were there. Looking down, Chris ruminated for a brief moment and then turned his attention back to Ella who was staring down at the drop with widening eyes.  
  
"I told Fowler I was going to make it slow for you." Chris met her eyes for the first time. "I don't need to waste that much time. I don't have to make it slow for you Ella, I just need to make it hurt," he said with a perfectly humorless smile. "I want to hear you scream like you made Sarah scream."  
  
Without another word, he threw her off the edge.  
  
She did scream to start of with and he watched every second of her descent, from the time her arms flayed desperately trying to find something to hold as she felt nothing but air around her, until her body slammed into the first protrusion of rock on her downward journey. The scream was cut short then, replaced by the sound of snapping bone and flesh. It was almost melodic in his ears as he stood at the edge, straining to hear every tune in Ella's musical demise. When it was over, when she lay sprawled somewhere below him in the black, Chris finally turned away.  
  
He stepped away from the edge, knowing that Ella was not alone when she fell.  
  
Chris Larabee had gone with her gratefully, plunging himself over the periphery where he would never stop falling. .

* * *

_**ALEX** _

  
Vin Tanner followed Alexandra Styles back to her hotel, with no idea why he was following her; aware only that he had no choice but to do so. As much as she confused him, he could not deny that when she had first kissed him, the part of him that acted on impulse did not care that she was a perfect stranger, did not even care that she was insane, he knew he was lost. He watched her as they journeyed back to the hotel, trying not to stare but found himself unable to do nothing but that. He watched her hair worn loose, bouncing off her shoulders, admiring the luster of her skin and the eyes that drowned him in its depths. When she said she loved him, Vin knew it was the truth. He just could not say how he knew it so perfectly.  
  
"Where did you come from?" He found himself asking, still sounding very confused.  
  
She linked her arm through his, not caring how it looked. In her mind, they were engaged and even though it was for a short time, it had been the happiest days of her life. Before she woke up from this dream, there was one thing Alex needed to do and that was introduce him to her father. If this wasn't a dream and it was more or less a foregone conclusion that it was not since it was in her reckoning the longest such experience in her life if it were, and she was stuck with this, then it was best that her father met Vin anyway.  
  
"Boston." Alex answered his questions and noticed that he did not pull away when her arm slipped through his. In fact, he was starting to feel a little more at ease even though the confusion in his face was still very apparent.  
  
"How can you love me, we ain't never met." He looked at her, defying her to answer him because he really needed an explanation to this insanity as well as a reason for why he felt the way he did. Not even Charlotte had effected him this way and when Alex had kissed him, when he had felt her lips against his, Vin had never felt anything in his life to be so right. It was almost like the day he and Chris had looked at each other across the street and decided that it was the right thing to help Nathan. Such moments of clarity had always proceeded the best times in his life and although this beautiful woman and her claims puzzled him, he could not deny how she made him feel. Vin seldom felt so passionately for anyone, even with Charlotte it had taken a little time especially when he found out that she was married. However, with Alex there was none of the doubt that made him pause or hesitate, no matter confused he may now feel.  
  
"I know." She replied as matter of factly. "But I do love you."  
  
"This is crazy." Vin replied, thinking he needed a stiff drink to make some sense out of what was happening. "I know I ain't never met you and you say you love me? What makes it even crazier is well, look at you!"  
  
Alex paused and examined herself feeling rather self-conscious at his remark. "What do you mean look at me?" She asked, hands on her hips as she stared at him with a hint of indignation.  
  
"Well you're a lady and all, you got linen and lace hanging off you, I ain't got no business having anything to do with someone like you!" He retorted as if it should have been perfectly obvious to her although he did admit that when she was riled up, she was actually even prettier. He wondered what she must be like when she was truly infuriated. Magnificent, Vin was certain.  
  
"Oh for God's sake!" Alex rolled her eyes in exasperation "What has that got to do with anything?" She demanded annoyed that even in this reality, he could still use that for an excuse. Hadn't she been through all this nonsense with Charlotte? "I love you. I don't care if you got a bounty on your head and you only a dollar a day! That never mattered to me! I love you because you showed me some of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. You've shown me sunsets and stars, you've shown me how easy is to become lost in the quiet and have a whole world open up when I shut up long enough to look. Those are things money or position can never buy Vin. When I'm with you, nothing else matters. It’s like there's only the two of us and I love being with you so much. When I woke up three days ago and found out that everything was different, that you weren't in my life any more, I thought I was going to die and I knew I had to find you. One way or another."  
  
Nothing she said was making any sense but her words did penetrate, just like the feeling of intense pleasure at knowing that someone cared for him that much. Not like Charlotte to whom he was second best. Vin started to smile because despite the impossibility of it all, he believed her when she said he had shown her all the things he had. With no more doubt in his mind, he placed a hand on her cheek and drew her to him. Alex did not resist when he leaned down and kissed her. Her lips against his tasted heavenly and he felt confusion burning away along with all the other reservations that lingered in his mind because the truth was, none of it mattered. Not one bit of it.  
  
All Vin Tanner was conscious of was how he felt about her and the moment he had seen Alexandra Styles only a short time ago, Vin knew that she was right, he would love her if he did not already. Their mouths melted together in kiss of lustful desire with neither caring whom was watching their passionate exchange. When he pulled away, it felt almost painful.  
  
"I gotta be crazy." Vin said shaking his head as he grinned with his arms still around her.  
  
"Well save it for now," she replied she disengaged herself from him and resumed walking towards the hotel. "My father's waiting."  
  
"What?" Vin grumbled as he took her hand in his and let Alex led him where she wanted. "I just met you and I now I gotta meet your pa too...?"

* * *

_**EZRA** _

  
  
"Ezra, what are you doing!" He heard Cousin Charles shouted in astonishment as his horse pulled away from the duo and made for Mrs. Washington at breakneck speed. Ezra knew he would have only one shot at this, so it had to be done right or not only would he doom the woman and her children to certain death but himself as well. Pulling out the gun from his holster, Ezra took careful aim at the men standing over Mrs. Washington, taking their pleasures from the atrocity they were inflicting upon her body. He wondered if the respectable Mr. Standish had the same marksman skills and decided that in less than a second, he was going to find out.  
  
Squeezing the trigger of the gun, he fired on shot at the man who was presently hunched over the helpless woman, brutalizing her as he grunted his way to ecstasy, oblivious to the repellent nature of the act he was committing. The bullet struck the man in the rump, making him pull away from her abruptly in pain. He felt on his side, screaming as he clutched his bleeding rear while the other man looked around to see where the shot had come from. Ezra did not give the chance to find out and fired again just as swiftly, the bullet slamming into his knee and dropping the man where he stood.  
  
"Madam," Ezra said quickly when he reached Mrs. Washington who though shocked by her sudden deliverance, had presence of mind to compose herself quickly. He snatched the hood from his head and tossed it aside, feeling grateful to be rid of this symbol of violence. "I am sorry I was not here sooner." He apologized.  
  
She stared at him with tear-streaked cheeks and eyes that were filled with amazement. "But why?"  
  
"I do not believe we have time to discuss it," Ezra retorted, seeing the others starting to converge on him. Leading them was dear Cousin Charles and Cousin Jacob who had recovered from their own astonishment at this sudden turn of events to know they had serious problem on their hands. "I would suggest you take your children and start running. I have no idea how long I shall be able to hold off these pointed head cretins before they resume their efforts to retrieve you."  
  
At that statement, she looked around and saw precisely what he meant. The other ghouls were taken by surprise at this betrayal by one of their own but they were recovering quickly and the confusion that was hampering their progress would not last for long. She nodded wildly and immediately started towards her children, the oldest being no more than five he estimated. Ezra looked at the men approaching and fired once into the air, gaining their attention and hopefully buying himself a few minutes.  
  
"This has gone far enough gentlemen!" He shouted. Most of these men were confident that their anonymity would protect them but in this instance, it was one of their own who was standing up to them, who knew the faces behind the masks.  
  
"Ezra, what the hell are you doing?" Cousin Charles demanded as their horses came to a stop at the sound of his warning shot.  
  
Ezra was still holding his gun; ready to fire at the first man to make a move against him. By now, Mrs. Washington had gathered her children and were wisely fleeing into the woods, where the darkness would keep them safe until they could reach help. "What I should have done long before now. I have no idea what possess me to wear this costume," he regarded the robes over his clothes distastefully, "but I wear it no more and neither will I allow you to vent your sick philosophy on a helpless woman and her children. You have killed her husband, I do believe that it is enough of a lesson for her to vacate the premises without resorting to the vile actions I was happy to put an end to a moment ago."  
  
"You do not walk away from the Klan, Ezra!" Charles swore angrily. The fury in his voice was unmistakable and Ezra could tell by the cold edge to his tone that it was time for him to make a hasty departure. Casting a sidelong glance, he could see no sign of Mrs. Washington and hoped that the narrow window of opportunity he had allowed for her escape would be enough.  
  
"I am walking away now." He said firmly, his gun still aimed firmly in their direction as he nudged his horse to make a slow retreat backwards. The gambler never took his eyes off the enemy even for a second and took full advantage of their confusion. He was one of their own and this sudden bout face had left them uncertain over what they should do. Under normal circumstances, they would have killed him already, like Serfonteine had been so eager to do when Ezra had taken the same stand when he freed Alex from their ministrations. However, he and Charles were kin and judging by the authority that Charles represented, he was probably the leader of the local chapter.  
  
"Ezra, think of Annabelle and your children." Jacob implored. "You're not just endangering yourself, you're endangering them too."  
  
"They know nothing about this and I am certain you know that." Ezra retaliated confidently as the horse started to move into the trees. He could hear the rustle of leaves behind them just as he was aware of them closing in on him with just as much stealth in their advance. "Harming them does not serve any purpose and would raise uncomfortable questions, would it not?"  
  
"This isn't over," Charles hissed and with that posturing statement, Ezra decided that it actually was. Unless they got their hands on his person, there was very little they could do to him and for the moment, Ezra had not intention of falling into that position.  
  
"I think it is." Ezra grinned and dug his heels into the side of his horse and took off through the trees. He kept his head low and galloped hard and fast through the foliage, completely aware that they were following as he heard the loud rustling of branches and leaves as they broke through the line of trees in pursuit. Ezra who had more practice at evading large gatherings hell bent on tar and feathering him that they would ever know, had little difficulty keeping ahead of the group and he had just enough tricks up his sleeve to throw them off when necessary.  
  
Ezra had no idea how much time had passed until he no longer heard the hoof beats or angry voices screaming out for his hide but eventually the sounds faded away with the coming of dawn. Most of the men in the group were undoubtedly family men like he was meant to be and could not afford to spend too much of the evening with their extra curricular activities. Ezra knew that if he could just keep ahead of them long enough, their own domestic concerns would bring an end to their pursuit. Besides, Cousin Charles was of the belief that when Ezra stopped running, he would return home to Annabelle and his children.  
  
As much as Ezra had wanted to give his wife a face to face explanation for what he was about to do, his Klan involvement now made that impossible. He felt somewhat remorseful that he had to deliver such news to her over correspondence but Ezra was certain he had the necessary skills to compose the letter that would might make her understand that he was not the man she believed him to be. Once upon a time he had wanted a life like the one he had experienced today and it was a monument to his own stupidity that he had longed for it even after he found the friends in Four Corners and Julia Pemberton.  
  
When Ezra finally returned to the road that connected Charleston to the rest of the south, he gazed into the city for a moment and wondered how it was possible to have everything that he had always wanted and realized that it was less than what he had. Questions for philosophers, he decided and started down the road taking him from Charleston. The sun was starting to peek over the horizon and Ezra wondered how long it would take him to get Four Corners.  
  
He did not know if the people he cared about would even remember him when he arrived but one thing was for certain, they would not forget Ezra Standish once he was there.

* * *

_**JULIA** _

  
Julia Pemberton was extremely content.  
  
She found herself lying against Ezra's chest, listening to his heart beating next to her ear and wondered how it was possible for one man to have so much power over her when once upon a time, she had power over so many of them. Even though all of this had taken him by surprise, Julia was certain that he was quite pleased with the turn of events, even to the point where she actually meant something more to him than just the money. When she had first met him, she had no idea what made him tick underneath the cool facade of the southern gentlemen. Although he confessed to an insatiable love of money, Julia knew that Ezra Standish was not just about that. No self serving human being intent on making himself a fortune would remain in a town where death could come with a bullet at any time for a dollar a day and room and board. Oh, he said it was because he had business interests in town but Julia knew better. Ezra stayed because he was part of the fellowship.  
  
The six men he rode with were more than comrades in arms; even she could see that. It was an unspoken understanding between all of the women in their lives, Mary, Alex and even Inez though the barmaid would loathed to admit it that the bond between the seven was a chain that could not be broken. They survived the things they did because they were together and Julia had this sense, as she believed the other women did that alone; their men would come to harm.  
  
They had married yesterday, much to the surprise of the others and even more so when Ezra had announced his attention to remain in Four Corners. Julia was glad of that because he liked this little town more than he would prefer to admit and for that matter so did she. Before she woke up and found her life resembling nothing of what it had been then day before, Julia had liked her existence in Four Corners. She had enjoyed running her Emporium and playing the part of businesswoman. It had allowed her to discover that she could be more than just a face.  
  
Neither had any idea of what they would do in the long-term future but for the moment, it was universally agreed that they ought to stay where they were. With the premarital contracts signed and Ezra having access to half her fortune with no strings attached, he would never have to worry about her gaining the upper hand with money. Julia had wanted him to love her without the fear of worrying whether his efforts to please her would have any financial implications. And it had given her great relish to send the telegram home informing her relatives that she was indeed married and had no immediate plans to return home. Julia almost wished she could see their faces and knew that they were probably about as pleased as she was. As long as she continued to fulfil her obligations to them, Julia wanted nothing more to do with the Averys. In her mind, she still considered herself to be Julia Pemberton although really her name was now Standish. Still either was a more realistic depiction than which she had been when she was living as Julia Avery.  
  
Outside, it appeared to be late morning and it had been their habit to sleep in unless Chris required something of Ezra in their duties as the town lawmen. The gunslinger cared little for Ezra's change in fortune and treated her new husband as always, like one of his men. Still, even Julia could not deny that Chris Larabee's presence would always make him the leader, even if everyone around him were a billionaire.  
  
She was hungry and shifted slightly to see if there were any scraps left from the dinner they shared last night on the table not far from the bed. Ezra was sleeping soundless and Julia saw no reason to wake him as she gently climbed out of bed and reached for the robe draped over the bedpost. Slipping it on, she went to ring for some room service, having come to the conclusion that she was getting hungry. However before she could proceed to do that, there was a sudden knock on the door.  
  
Ezra was starting to stir and Julia frowned, hating to see him roused from such a fitful sleep and hoped that there was not some new trouble in town that required his presence. As much as she understood his need to be one of Four Corners' defenders, she could not help worrying for his life whenever he went to face such threats. She opened the door expecting to see Chris or one of the others when to her absolute surprise, she found herself faced with neither.  
  
"Roderick." Julia exclaimed.  
  
Roderick Packard stared at her coldly, his eyes travelling up and down the length of her and deducing immediately that she was not alone. "Julia, may I come in?"  
  
"Roderick, what are you doing here?" She asked, throwing a nervous look over her shoulder at Ezra's direction as she stood by the doorway.  
  
"I've come a long way to see you my dear," Roderick pushed his way in with Julia doing little to stop him because she was still so stunned by his sudden appearance. He looked as if he had been travelling and knew instinctively he must have come off the stage since this was one of its scheduled days in Four Corners.  
  
"Roderick please," Julia said doing up all the buttons of her robe as he strode into the room. Everything in his manner indicated that he knew all about her marriage and she guessed he had come to see for himself, what man she had selected over him.  
  
"Let me congratulate you on your marriage." He turned to her after Julia had shut the door. "I am somewhat surprised that you came all this way to do so but when I heard the news, I was simply compelled to bring my salutations in person."  
  
It required no clairvoyance to see that he was furious and Julia stared past him at Ezra who was starting to become aware of some problem, even though to the casual observer he still appeared to be fast asleep. "What do you want Roderick?" Julia asked trying not to show that he was intimidating her. "I'm married now, I am sorry that things did not transpire the way you wished but I am a grown woman free to make my own decisions."  
  
"You are nothing but a wanton tramp and you should have been grateful that you were privileged enough for me to consider making you my bride!" He lashed out viciously, his fist doing the talking as he swatted her aside like she was a badly behaved child.  
  
Julia felt her cheek flare as she felt to the floor, furious that he had struck her and was prepared to kill him for that insult. However when she looked up, she saw that she had need not have bothered.  
  
Ezra was standing next to Roderick, holding his derringer against the back of the man's head, while his other hand held onto the sheet that was hiding his naked form. "I have not had the pleasure Sir," Ezra said with an even colder voice than Roderick had managed. "Although I would prefer an apology made to my wife first before formal introductions are made."  
  
"Your wife?" Roderick snorted. "I know all about you Mr. Standish, I know that your mother is a swindler and that you are nothing more than a con man, so let's not pretend this marriage is anything more than a sham. Besides, your wife is the biggest trollop in Philadelphia. I have reports from a dozen of her lovers who will happily verify that she is nothing less than a wanton!"  
  
"And still she rejected you." Ezra said hardly fazed by the man's vicious revelations. "I was perfectly aware that Julia was hardly virginal and I might add that had you sampled the goods, you would not be so particular about where she acquired the skill. In any case, we are married so if you would kindly depart quietly, I will resist the urge to shoot you dead for laying your hands on my wife."  
  
"Fine," Roderick hissed, unprepared by to argue with the gun barrel that was pressed against his skull. "Have her then," he glared at Julia as he started walking towards the door. "You both deserved each other."  
  
"I assume then you will not be needing the name of our bridal registry?" Ezra quipped as Roderick strode past Julia and reached the door. The former suitor reacted with a stormy glare before he departed the room, slamming the door shut behind him. As soon as he was gone, Ezra lowered the gun and turned to Julia, his hand outstretched to help her up.  
  
"Are you all right?" He asked gently.  
  
"I'm fine." Julia grumbled, flinching when she touched the corner of her lips where Roderick had struck her. "I'm sorry about that, I had no idea he was that persistent."  
  
"I am sure we can deal with him if he chooses to slither back for a second round." Ezra said confidently. "Although he may decide such a scandalous wanton may no longer be worth of his time now that she has attached herself to a con man."  
  
Julia frowned as she wrapped her arms around him and brought her lips to his.  
  
"Pity," she sighed. "He has no idea what he's missing."

* * *

  
_**BUCK** _

 

Buck Wilmington saw Mary Larabee before him and knew that he was in trouble. The wife of his oldest friend stared at him with those incredible eyes of hers, the ones that were capable of reducing anyone to a slobbering mess, Chris included, and wanting only one thing from him he was certain. Buck had no idea what to do and wondered how he could escape with his hide intact. Deciding that under no circumstances was he even going to remotely fall into the same situation as he had with Julia or Alex, Buck was going to going to nip this in the bud right now.  
  
"Listen Mary, I know that you think I'm irresistible and you ain't wrong, it's because of my animal magnetism but this ain't right and you know it. You love Chris, hell you've married Chris and he is my oldest friend, I ain't never going to betray that."  
  
Mary Travis Larabee said nothing for a few seconds as she stared at him following his earnest statement. She nodded as if absorbing his words and Buck hoped he had not hurt her feelings too much. Women like men had their pride and rejection was not any easier for them to endure.  
  
He never finished the thought because Mary struck him across the jaw.  
  
Buck fell backwards into the opposite wall looking at her with astonishment at her novel approach to seduction. "Mary. .?"  
  
"How dare you Mr. Wilmington assume that I was here for it!" She could not even bring herself to say it as she sputtered in fury. "I assure you that you are the last man in this town, no, on this planet that I would even presume to having a dalliance with! I came here to see what the hell was going on, there are women running around town screaming your name as if you were the Second Coming!"  
  
Buck swore under his breath at his mistaken and supposed he was grateful that she was not effected yet, although Alex had been completely composed initially before she too had succumbed to his overpowering allure. "It's my animal magnetism," he tried to explain as he rubbed his throbbing jaw. The woman had a great right hook. "It's driving the women in this town crazy. You have no idea what I've been through the last few hours."  
  
Somehow Mary did not believe him. "Really?" She stared at him with arms folded in contemptuous disbelief. "Somehow I find that extremely difficult to believe."  
  
"Buck, what the hell is going on?" Vin suddenly appeared as he and Ezra coming walking up the staircase toward them. Buck was almost grateful to see the tracker since Vin would be in a position to keep Mary back when this craziness started to effect her too. "I just came from Alex's and she said that it was all over between us because she wants to run off with you!"  
  
"What?" Buck exclaimed horrified, staring at his friend with dismay. "Vin, I swear to you something is happening to the women in this town!" He looked frantically at Mary. "Ask her!"  
  
"Its true," Mary was forced to concede on this point as she met the tracker's gaze ."I've been coming across women all day who have been doing nothing but saying that Buck Wilmington was the man for them."  
  
"Am I to understand that you are completely innocent of all these unwanted affections?" Ezra asked, with almost as much scepticism that Mary had displayed earlier.  
  
"It's my animal magnetism!" Buck shouted exasperated, feeling like a man drowning. "Before she went nuts and try to tear my clothes of me, Alex told me it was something to do with pheromones."  
  
"Tear...your...clothes...off...you?" Vin glared at him dangerously.  
  
"Take it easy Mr. Tanner," Ezra put a restraining arm on the tracker ."Let's hear the man out. As much success that Mr. Wilmington has with the ladies, there is no way that he could turn Alexandra's head unless reality as we know it has gone completely insane. We both know the lady in question, she has always behaved in the most proper. ..Julia?"  
  
Julia Pemberton picked that exact moment to emerge from Buck's room, adjusting clothes as if she had been only a moment in a state of undress. The gambler's words died in his throat as Julia came in their direction with Buck groaning in frustration at the woman's impeccable timing.  
  
"You were saying Ezra?" Vin turned to Ezra with an almost smug smile on his face.  
  
"Start explaining, Buck." Ezra replied calmly. "And perhaps, we may not have to do to you what we do to geldings."

* * *

_**NATHAN** _

  
It was starting to rain and Josiah Sanchez inched further beneath his wagon to take refuge from the teeming rain. Across the landscape, he had could see the traces of civilization in the flares of lights through the window of the occasional farmhouse. He had seen much of Kentucky during his travels up north and like all places, it had its own charm even if the stink of slavery was more than Josiah had been able to tolerate. He had found it difficult to stomach the sight of the plantations and their main crop, which was not cotton at all but rather a more human stock. This cross country journey from California to the east was more than he had bargained for and Josiah looked forward to getting out of the southern states.  
  
The fire was battling to stay alive under the light rain that was sprinkling across the land and the cold in the air made Josiah hope that it would win the day, since he did not relish the chill of wet clothes during the rest of the night. He had yet to make his mind up about what he wanted to do now that he had walked away forever from the constraints of having a parish. He knew he wanted to conduct the Lord's work but he had no idea what shape that service would take. He just knew he could no longer sit by and watch other people stand up for what was right where doing the same would violate the vows he had taken. A choice had to be made and he had done so but Josiah was still uncertain whether or not it was the correct decision.  
  
"I could use some help with an answer Lord," he looked up into the cloudless sky, trying to see past the cumulus into the stars he was certain were a conduit to the almighty. "I have never been good drifting on my own and I need some kind of sign that I'm not making a mistake."  
  
Unfortunately, only silence followed his divine entreaty.  
  
"I guess that means you expect me to handle this myself." He frowned, disliking that notion considerably.  
  
"Josiah, he never answers you the way you expect him too." A voice broke through the hiss of rain.  
  
Josiah swung around and saw a boy, no more than seventeen years old, staring at him with familiarity, even though the wet on his face was not just from the rain. In his arms, he was carrying a girl and the manner in which her arms dangled as he held her, immediately told Josiah that her state of health was not exactly the best.  
  
"Please Josiah," the boy pleaded as he took a step forward into the campsite. "I need help. She's hurt, my Becky's hurt."  
  
The sorrow in that youthful voice was enough to pull Josiah from his warm and comfortable position and send him hurrying to the young man. He did not need to ask if they were runaway slaves for in the south that was all a black man could be if he was not in the presence of a white man. Josiah did not know how the boy knew his name but he had asked God for a sign and this was as good as any. The young man dropped to his knees in front of the warm glow of the fire and as he laid her down on the ground, could Josiah see the terrible dark stain on her side. The wound had been bandaged with some amount of skill but not enough.  
  
"I tried doing what I can for her," Nathan stammered, trying to keep the tears from coming but knowing from experience that he could do nothing more for. "But she's lost too much blood."  
  
He had tried desperately to tend the injury she had received but with their being on the run from the master, there was no hope of getting the kind of supplies he would need to help her. Rebecca for her part had tried to say focused but Nathan could see it was a battle she could not win. With each passing day, she grew weaker and the gaps where she needed to rest began more extended.  
  
"You did the best you could son," Josiah placed a comforting hand on the youth's shoulder, trying to ease the pain of his sorrow even though he knew that nothing he said could change what would soon happen. "It's in the Lord's hands."  
  
"The Lord can go to hell!" Nathan swore with uncharacteristic fury because the unfairness of it all was beyond his ability to stomach. How could he be sent back in time to this place and still fail to save his sister? "Where was the Lord when we were in the plantation? Where was the Lord when they were working us to death?"  
  
Josiah could not answer, nor was he going to patronize the boy with platitudes about God's will and how there was some grand design that they were not privy to. He had seen the plantations himself and even Josiah wanted to know what possible good could there be in placing an entire race under the yoke of nearly barbaric servitude. "I can't rightly tell you son," Josiah said honestly. "I can only tell you that you did your best and sometimes that ain't enough."  
  
Nathan brushed his cheek against Rebecca's cold skin and knew that although she still breathed, the sands of her life were running out fast. She reacted to the warmth of his skin and she looked up at him, her eyes cloudy and not quite able to focus. "Did we make it Nathan? Did we find Josiah?" She asked, her lips barely moving as her voice escaped her.  
  
"Yes," he swallowed, trying to sound brave but not quite managing it as the tears came harder. "We found him. He's here and he's going to get us north."  
  
"We're free then," she almost smiled, her eyes lighting up just for an instant. "I told you we would be." She closed her eyes as if the effort was too much for her.  
  
"You did," Nathan nodded, unable to prevent the sob that escaped him. "You were always right about that."  
  
"Of course," she said finally, her voice starting to drift. "I'm smarter than you."  
  
She disappeared before him at that moment, slipping into the shadows of life as the spark inside of her breathed its last and her hand went limp in his. Nathan closed his eyes, knowing the precise moment when the light of her existence was finally extinguished, almost as if he could feel a part of himself go with her.  
  
He knew that he should not feel the grief he did because he had lost her before but this time it felt worse somehow because life had been within reach and still it had been taken away at the last moment. Maybe this was a lesson about the immutability of Fate and some other cosmic factors he could not even begin to fathom. All Nathan Jackson knew at this moment was the one question he had wanted answered all his life was finally delivered to him and he now wished to God that it had not.  
  
Some things were better left unknown.

* * *

_**INEZ** _

 

"Court me?" Inez stared at him in perfect astonishment.  
  
Of all the things he could have said to her, that was the one statement that could leave her perfectly tongue tied without a word in response. It was only today that she had managed to see Raphael as something more than Don Paulo's hired gun, she had no idea that he had seen her as much more than just another servant in the Don's enormous mansion. While apart of her was flattered that such a man would take interest in her and knew immediately that her sister Calla would be fuming with jealously since Calla like the rest of the village deemed Raphael as quite the catch, the rest of her was just flabbergasted.  
  
"Is that so strange?" He asked, uncertain of how he should take her surprised reply.  
  
"Yes," she found herself admitting. "We've hardly spoken two words to each other in all the time that we've lived in this village."  
  
Raphael could not disagree and had to admit that was partly his fault. He did not have the kind of manner that was approachable even though he had been aware of Inez for quite some time now. Fear had kept him away because the depth of his feelings for her was no passing affection but a something that could grow into a deep abiding love that could be paralyzing. "By courting you, we will change that." He countered.  
  
"Raphael," Inez struggled to put across what she felt. He was a good and honourable man and she ought to be a fool for refusing him but she was not the person he imagined her to be. Through some quirk of fate, the last two years of her life had been erased but not the memories of the people she had met and the relationships that had been formed. Buck Wilmington was an irresponsible, half witted child with no more sense than a jack rabbit on heat and God help her for saying this, Inez loved him. She did not know why she loved him and rather hated that she did but it as the unfortunate truth.  
  
"Raphael, I don't know how I feel." Inez finally managed to say; hoping that sounded even partially sincere. She knew that it was no easy thing for him to reach out like this. This was not a man who was accustomed to exposing his feelings and she truly did not want to hurt him by an outright refusal, even though in the long run she would have to make that rejection eventually.  
  
"I ask for only the chance to allow you to learn who I am. I am in no rush and we appear to have the time." He said earnestly.  
  
If only he knew! Inez had every intention of leaving the village in the next day or so in order to return to Four Corners, there would be no time for her to gain the familiarity with him he would like. In truth, Inez had no wish to lead him on when she knew in her heart she could never feel anything for him, yet Inez had no idea how to tell him this. She had meant to depart in secret, not even letting her mother Paloma know her intentions. No doubt, her mother and Calla combined would have a dozen reasons why she ought to stay and Inez had no way of telling them the truth at the reasons why she could not.  
  
"I suppose." Inez smiled faintly angered that she could have allowed herself to stumble into this situation. "Allow me to think about this." She said finally, not knowing what other answer would suffice at the moment and hope he understood when she disappeared from the village the next day.  
  
After this, she had no choice but to leave.

* * *

 _ **JOSIAH**_  
  
The room reeked of musty herbs and old books.  
  
In the darkened recess of what passed for Morag Bellingham's cellar, Josiah found himself surrounded by volumes of book so old, written in languages that were ancient even when Latin was first scribed by the Romans. He examined their leather bound spines with fascination wondering what secret knowledge was contained in its pages of parchment and paper and whether or not the answer to his dilemma was similarly locked within them. As his eyes scoured over the ancient texts, attempting to decipher the origins of the strange writings before him, Josiah found that most of them were beyond his understanding. Even Audrey, who confessed to being somewhat scholarly, could make little head or tale of what was before her.  
  
Meanwhile Morag was conducting examinations of her own, studying the book that had been the cause of so much discourse. From Josiah's description, she was able to discern what had happened to him and in that sense, had some clue to seeking out the particular enchantment that had turned his existence upside down.  
  
Although Josiah was somewhat skeptical about just what the old woman was able to do, he could not deny that he was experiencing some extraordinary things which only lend proof to the fact that not everything in the world was as explainable as he might like to believe. The very fact that he was here proved that somehow, the world of mists as she called it did exist. It had existed enough to shape his entire existence into something it was not.  
  
"I have always tried to be a nurturing educator to Lily," Audrey grimaced as they waited for Morag to give them some news. "I never wanted to say no to her about what she wanted to learn. When she found the book, I thought it was just a collection of old wives tales, how much harm could she do?"  
  
"Well most of the time, it would be harmless." Josiah said trying to sympathize with her. "You just had the bad luck to let her get her hands on the genuine product."  
  
"Now I'm raising a witch." Audrey groaned, proving that Josiah's words of comfort were having very little effect upon her. "A hundred and fifty years ago, she would have been burned at the stake and me with her for allowing to practice. Frank was so much better at putting his foot down with her." She said starting to become more disconsolate. "Now he's gone and I'm letting her run wild! How can I teach a school full of children if I can't even be responsible for my own daughter?"  
  
Josiah was about to say something to make her feel better because he could see just how upset she was about Lilith's activities when suddenly, Morag spoke up.  
  
"Here it is." The woman exclaimed. She had been at her old walnut desk, studying the book closely, trying to sift through all the invocations, incantations and spells that were contained in its yellowed pages trying to find the one used by Lilith. "It's called the Spell of Desire."  
  
"The spell of desire?" Josiah and Audrey left the small library and joined her at the table.  
  
"Yes, it is meant to grant a person their fondest wish." Morag explained. "It can grant any wish the heart desires like physical objects, the return of loved ones, even the shape our lives takes. It is a spell of great complexity, usually cast as a gift of love."  
  
"That would make sense," Josiah had to agree even if it all seemed a little surreal. "Billy thought he was doing something good for all of us."  
  
"He's a child," Audrey agreed. "Children probably think our wishes are like theirs, simple and straightforward. Adult wishes and dreams are more complex because of all the experiences of age."  
  
"He thought he was doing the right thing," Josiah sighed. "Except he did the exact opposite." The preacher let out a deep breath, not feeling better even though he now knew the how and why of the matter.  
  
"So what can we do to change it?" Josiah looked at Morag, praying she had answer.  
  
The old woman leaned back into her chair and took a deep breath, considering the question before her. "As I told you before, I can only open the door but you must walk through it. You are enchanted Josiah Sanchez, it reeks off you like the smell of death. I can use that to find the place where you began but you must go through and find Lilith. She invoked the spell, only she is able to unbind it. To cast the original enchantment, she required objects of yours and your friends. The objects must be sanctified and the casting upon them removed. Only then, will what you knew as real will return to what is."  
  
"I'll do what I have to," he said without hesitation. "I don't have any other choice."  
  
Upon agreeing to undertake the quest set before him, Morag wasted no time in beginning her preparations. Although she said nothing to prove otherwise, Josiah could sense the fear in Audrey. He could not blame her really for he felt the same chill himself over all the talk of spells and enchantment. As someone who believed in God and everything else that went with it, what Morag practiced was nothing less than paganism but there was nothing in the Bible that could explain what had happened to him and Josiah knew he was not mad. His world had changed and he was certain that God had no part in this.  
  
When Morag was finally ready, she beckoned the duo to step into the circle that was painted into the floor. Josiah and Audrey stepped within the painted boundaries as Morag began a highly elaborate ritual where she chanted and spoke ancient words with odd looking object that Josiah did not recognize but could not deny the atmosphere of enchantment they brought to the occasion. Thick, long candles that gave off a sweet scent as they burned in the darkness illuminated the room. Josiah tried to place the aroma but could not describe it; aware only that it filtered through his nostrils and made him breathed it in deeper. There was almost an intoxicating flavor to it and when Josiah breathed it in a few more times; he started to feel a little lightheaded.  
  
He turned to Audrey, wondering if that overpowering scent had effected her and notice there was a thin layer of mist on the floor. It resembled the fog in his mind as Morag chanted her strange words, her gnarled hands holding his as she spoke and Josiah wondered what she was saying but the question had difficulty leaving his mouth. Eventually, he forgot it all together as the mist grew thicker underfoot and the chanting more feverish.  
  
"Josiah," Audrey whispered. "What's happening?"  
  
Josiah wanted to answer but he could not. His eyes were playing tricks on him he was sure because the room was starting to spin. His head throbbed with a mild headache as the walls began to move around him, slowly at first for he was able to count the number of times Morag past by him. However, it soon increased speed the louder the words she was speaking became in his ears. As the room spun with such intensity that everything was soon a blur of colour and sound, he found he could not tell where he began and where the room ended. Even Morag's words began to fade until suddenly, he saw something flash with almost white light.  
  
In the few seconds of intense brightness, it seemed to Josiah for a brief moment, that the walls had suddenly disappeared. When the flash appeared again, the preacher was certain he caught sight of a flash of colour that might have been sky. Josiah blinked but the spinning was making him increasingly disorientated and he knew not what he was seeing was merely an illusion or some hallucination caused by the sickly sweet smell of the candles.  
  
The interval between flashes became more and more frequent, until finally the walls dissolved altogether and Josiah found that he was able to recognize where he was. Once that realization was made, once he knew where he was meant to be, the spinning began to slow and the haze over his mind lifted, with clarity returning to him with only a slight headache left in its wake. Josiah dropped to his knees, feeling not wooden floorboards when he felt but the grainy substance of gravel under him. It took a few seconds for him to take regain his equilibrium but Audrey's voice bursting into his consciousness tore him back form the cloud of uncertainty with much more speed.  
  
"Josiah!" She cried out and immediately forced him to look for her.  
  
She was standing exactly the gap of space, as she had been when they had embarked upon this ritual, except they were no longer within Morag Bellingham's cellar. Josiah looked around at his surroundings and knew exactly where he was.  
  
"Where are we?" Audrey asked, unafraid to show her fear. She was looking about her with a mixture of fright and fascination, Josiah could not tell which had more supremacy.  
  
"Four Corners." Josiah said as he found himself standing in front of the boarded up shop front that should have belong to the Clarion News. Lengths of wood covered the door to the building and the neatly painted sign on the glass was worn and chipping. Even the glass itself was covered in dirt, giving all the indications that the Clarion News had not been in business for some time.  
  
The town itself was nothing like what Josiah remembered. It was not the prosperous little town that was booming with the eminent arrival of the railroad, far from it in fact. Tumbleweeds were being pursued by dusty winds across the quiet streets. People were about but their manner seemed to be cautious and weary. This scene was familiar and as Josiah stared walking up the street, he could not shake this feeling of deja vu.  
  
"I moved to a town like this?" Audrey asked unimpressed as she saw the grim atmosphere that was as prevailing as the dust storms tearing through the main street.  
  
"It did not look like this." Josiah retorted. "That there," he pointed to the Clarion News. "Was open the last time I remembered. I haven't seen this place so dead since. ."  
  
And then it came to him.  
  
Audrey saw the answer in his face and quickly demanded. "Since?"  
  
"Since before Chris got here." Josiah mused.  
  
"Chris?" Audrey did not recognize the name. Why should she? Where she had been, she had never come to Four Corners and thus she would have no reason to know the name Chris Larabee.  
  
"When Billy gave everyone his wish," Josiah continued speaking as if hearing himself say it would make it any easier to understand. "He changed how things were here. Chris Larabee lost his wife and child, he would have wanted to have them back. If he had them back, then his gunslinging days would be behind him and there would be no reason to come to Four Corners and he wouldn't have met Vin and the rest of us."  
  
"One man changed this entire town?" She looked at this community that resembled a ghost time.  
  
"He was the right man," Josiah met her gaze. "He pulled us together, I don't know why. Some men have that power over others and Chris Larabee was like that. In this case I don't think its just him. One event can unravel everything. If I know my tracker, then Vin would have wanted that price off his head. He would have gone after Eli Joe and got him, not the body that Eli Joe tricked him with but the real man. There would be no price on his head, no reason to be looking for work in Four Corners, no reason to meet Chris. Nathan would have died because neither Chris and Vin were here to stop them from lynching him. J.D. would have had no reason to get off the stage and is probably alive somewhere else, same with Buck. Ezra would have kept going once he had cleaned out everyone in town. It all changes once the key players are out of the picture, do you see?"  
  
Audrey understood but it was still very confusing.  
  
"So how do we fix it then?" Audrey asked instead. "Where is my daughter in all this?"  
  
A very good question, Josiah decided and tried to remember which house that Audrey King would reside in once she arrived in Four Corners. There were probably flaws in his reasoning that someone with better sense than he could poke a stick at but at the moment, he understood that when Billy had granted them their wishes, he had removed all of them from this reality and supplanted them in another. Everything they had ever done in this existence was gone. He had a feeling that at the centre of this vortex was Lily, who knew that she was responsible even if she had no idea what she had done by granting a friend a simple request.  
  
"I think you bought that old Wainwright place." Josiah remarked as he started walking up the street to the house that would in his reality be occupied by Audrey and her daughter. Moving through Four Corners, sent a shiver up his spine because the place looked positively eerie. He had no idea how much their lives had impacted the town and what would have happened if they had never banded together to save the Seminole village. This did not at all look like the home he remembered but resembled one of those places where people were just waiting for things to die out before they could move out.  
  
It did not take long to reach the house and to Josiah's relief it was not boarded up. It had all the signs of being lived in but had that some grim luster about it that was ailing the rest of the town. He glanced at Audrey and remarked. "This is it." He stated.  
  
"Well," Audrey looked it over and found that it was not so impossible that she would chose this quaint little home with its picket fence and small garden as a place to raise her daughter, particularly if the town was in better shape than it presently appeared to be. "Its not so bad."  
  
"Mary said you fixed it up real nice." Josiah commented as he went to the door, uncertain of what he would find when he knocked.  
  
"Mary?" Audrey asked confused.  
  
"Never mind," Josiah replied, deciding that such explanations could wait or might be redundant if Lily could fix what she had done to them all. Knocking on the door, he waited impatiently for an answer, hoping this was not a wild goose chase. Morag had been certain that Lily was here and if she was, could be the only once who change everything. No one answered the door but Josiah saw the slight part of curtains that almost went unnoticed had he not let his gaze wander.  
  
Suddenly, the door swung open and a young girl stepped forward and ran straight into Audrey's arms.  
  
"Momma, you're alive!" She gushed happily as she hugged Audrey. "I thought those men killed you!"  
  
Audrey looked at Josiah helplessly, unaware of what the child was talking about but was certain that this little blond waif who looked so much like Frank was undoubtedly her daughter. Audrey knelt down to face the child whose face was covered in dirt, like she had not washed for awhile and whose tears were clearly visible against her skin. "Lily, baby, what's happened to you?"  
  
"You were dead Momma," she sobbed. "It was all my fault. You brought us here and I made Billy and everybody disappear! When those bad men came, there was no one to stop them and they killed you!"  
  
"Lily, listen to me." Audrey said taking a firm hand of her daughter, absolutely convinced now that everything that had been said about her child was now correct. This was the proof she could not deny, the evidence that was irrefutable. "Josiah is here, look. You didn't make him go away."  
  
Lily wiped her tears and looked around at Josiah with wide eyes. "You came back. When I made all the others disappear, no one remembered but me. They said Billy and his Momma had gone a long time ago before we came here and all of Billy's friends, Miss Pemberton too, they never came here at all."  
  
It fit with what Josiah had already deduced. "I know Lilith," he met the girl's gaze, trying not to be unkind even though she had caused more grief than any child her age had business doing. "But you can bring them all back, including Billy."  
  
"How?" She asked, looking at her mother as if Audrey's say so alone would make it more true than anything Josiah could say.  
  
"You took things from us to make the spell work didn't you?" He inquired."Yes," Lilith nodded tearfully. "Billy collected them so I could do the spell. All I wanted to do was make him happy. He wanted to get something really nice for everyone for Christmas and I told him I could help him get the best gift for Miss Pemberton."  
  
Well that would be enough to convince Billy, Josiah sighed, perfectly aware of the young boy's feelings for Julia. What would have seemed like a harmless bit of magic what become something powerful and dark, he hoped that there was enough strength left in Lilith to return things to normal. "Do you still have them?"  
  
"They're in my room," she said taking hold of Audrey's hand as she entered the house once again. Audrey felt her heart constrict in her chest as she entered the home and saw that it was immaculate inside, almost as if Lilith had tried to keep going for as long as she could without her mother. Knowing what her daughter endured made her cast a teary glance at Josiah who saw the same things when he followed them in.  
  
The personal items that had allowed Lilith to cast her spell were kept in a small wooden box at the foot of the child's bed. As she opened up the chest and presented the cache to Josiah and Audrey, he sighted one of the books that he had lent Billy Travis, along with other objects that were familiar only because he knew them to belong to the rest of the seven.  
  
"Lilith," Josiah said to the girl, knowing that she had been through an ordeal herself with the shift in reality because of what she had unknowingly done. "I know you were trying to help and no blames you for anything but you have to set things right again. What's happened not just to me but to Billy and the others has to be put right again. You're the only one who can do it."  
  
"I'm scared." She whispered, casting a fearful glance at Audrey as she spoke. Fresh tears were running down her cheeks and Josiah honestly believed that her spell casting days would soon be left behind her following this experience.  
  
"I know you are baby," Audrey took her daughter's hand and squeezed it with encouragement. "But you have to do this. You're our only hope."  
  
"What if I make you and Josiah disappear again?" She cried out. "I don't want to be alone again."  
  
"That won't happen," Josiah said trying to sound confident as possible, even though he was lying. He had no idea what would happen when Lilith attempted to undo the spell of desire. All he knew for certain was that it had to be tried because the consequences could not be any worse than what they already were. "You can do it Lilith, I believe you can and your mother believe it too."  
  
"That's right, Lily," Audrey added her voice with Josiah's in support. "You're my special girl and you can do anything you set your mind too baby. You prove that by what you've already done."  
  
Lilith looked at her mother, her lips quivering as she contemplated what her mother had said. Josiah could see Audrey having more effect on her daughter than anything he had said and knew that if the girl could be swayed into cooperating, she would do so only for her mother.  
  
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Lilith answered. "Okay," she swallowed. "I'll do it again."  
  
This time, there was no need to step into the circle.  
  
On the floor of her bedroom, Josiah saw Lilith placing the belongings of his friends into the centre of the outline traced in a powder that smelled like brimstone but knew to be sulfur. He marveled at how intricately she had observed the ritual and had to admit that even if it was a pagan rite she was indulging in, she approached it with a maturity that was far beyond her years. Even Audrey was somewhat surprised by the manner in which her ten year old carried out the requirements of the spell she was about to cast.  
  
"What will happen if it works?" Audrey asked Lilith.  
  
"I don't know," she said in a small voice, still overwhelmed by what she had wrought. Josiah was quite certain that Lilith's concept of magic and full blown sorcery were worlds apart. She had believed that she was conjuring little tricks, not shape shifting events to suit her desire. Like the discovery of all things new, she had underestimated it as so many had done in the ages before her. "I think everyone will just come back."  
  
Josiah hoped it was that simple.  
  
"I'm ready." Lilith announced quietly and both Josiah and Audrey fell very still as she stepped into the circle and sprinkled salt from container she had brought from the kitchen over all the personal effects she had used in the original spell.  
  
"What's the salt for?" Josiah had to ask.  
  
"Magic doesn't like salt." She answered meekly. "You have to be quiet now." She instructed. "I have to say the words."  
  
Josiah did as he was told and went very quiet as Lilith closed her eyes and began her chant. The language she spoke was nothing that either Josiah or Audrey recognized. There were aspects of it that sounded like Latin but she recited it with inflections that did not seem common to that ancient language. Her soft child's voice was almost melodious to hear as she continued speaking the words from a race Josiah was certain was now extinct. She was no longer looking at the book opened in her hand and Josiah realized she was reciting the words from memory.  
  
Suddenly the window shutters slammed shut as did all the doors. What light was shining through the glass was immediately shut out and the whole house became dark with shadows. Josiah did not jump but the sound had startled him as surely as it startled Audrey. Lilith was oblivious to it, she continued reading into the darkness, until the sound of her voice drowned out the noises of everything else. The girl's blond hair was swaying in the air, as if a gust of wind had come in from some unseen opening and was blowing its breeze at her alone. The words grew louder still, until they bounced off the walls and fell like something tangible as they coiled around Josiah and Audrey in the room. There was no light in the room, no candle to taunt them with aromatic smells, just the silhouette of Lilith in the black, like her namesake in the Old Testament.  
  
Lilith, wife of Adam who was cast out of Eden for having a mind of her own and went out into the world to create a race of monsters. What would this child do when she was finally went out into the world? Josiah shuddered to think. Through the cracks of the shutters, what little light sneaked into the darkness of the house suddenly disappeared and the warm sunshine out of the day outside soon evaporated into the chillness of night. Josiah had not seen the sun disappear behind the horizon but with a sixth sense he knew not he possessed, he was certain that it was no longer day light outside. Lilith's words continued, reaching a crescendo of power in a voice that was not hers and belonged to something beyond their understanding. Even Audrey could see that her daughter was no longer speaking and something else that worked its will through her body was inside the room with them.  
  
The doors and window shutters started rattling, shaking the house with their clattering sound as the forces that was capable of shaping reality like a sculptors clay worked its magic in the walls and beams of the house. Audrey was holding Josiah's hand, terrified by what was happening and resisting the urge to run to her daughter and spiriting her away from this madness. With the same abrupt action, the doors and shutters burst open and the clear beams of moonlight poured into the house as the final words were spoken and the unbinding began.  
  
The gust of wind that had been circling Lilith swept across the entire room, blowing away anything that was not held down. Dolls, hair brushes, sheets, pillows and even small pieces of furniture became airborne as the vortex whirled around them. Josiah and Audrey dropped to their feet, grabbing hold of the child's bed for it seemed the only thing that was too heavy to be borne away. In the eye of the storm, Lilith remained unaffected by the calamity taking place around her.  
  
"What's happening?" Audrey shouted over the roar of the gale.  
  
"I don't know!" Josiah replied and it was the truth. He was as much out of his depth as she was. Only Lilith seemed unfazed by what was happening and Josiah had a feeling that interrupting her at this point would be a mistake.  
  
His gaze shifted to the personal effects in front of Lilith and observed that something was happening there as well. Every tiny grain of salt that the child had scattered upon it earlier had become illuminated like embers of red flame. The effect of the shimmering layer of colour was almost beautiful and Lilith's chant had become fever pitch the brighter the sparkle, until its amber light was radiating against the child's skin. The glow expanded outwards, sending tendrils of crimson and amber to penetrate the vortex that was creating the chaos around them until it could expand no more.  
  
In that final instant when vortex and radiating energy had finally merged, Josiah shielded his eyes as the conflagration that exploded outward from that union, spewed a wave of fire that drove all thought from his mind and plunged him into the cool depths of complete darkness.

 


	7. Chapter 7

  
Chris Larabee woke up in a cold sweat.  
  
It took him a few seconds to realize where he was as Chris searched the surroundings he was in and realized that he was where he should have been all along, in bed with his wife. Beside him, Mary was sleeping fitfully, a soft smile across her lips as the last remnants of the dream where love had been lost and found dissolved in her mind. She did not stir and Chris saw no reason to wake her. For a few seconds, he took in the breathtaking sight of her, trying to stop the trembling in his entire body while fighting the need to throw up.  
  
Eventually, he settled for climbing out of bed and going to the open window. The room felt suffocatingly hot, almost as if he were trapped in a furnace.  
  
Or a fire.  
  
God, Sarah. He almost wept, as the nightmare still remained fresh in his mind where Chris had revisited what had to be the most vivid memory of Sarah's death he ever had the misfortune of experiencing. He could almost feel the smoke in his lungs, the heat against his skin and the echoes of her screams lingered in his mind like a headache that would not disappear. However, none of it was as bad as remembering what he had done after. He stared at his hands, almost expecting to see blood on his fingers and knew that the dream had allowed him to see something ugly and vile that existed deep within him and how fortunate it was that he had never despaired enough to unleash it. For one brief moment, where steeped in reality or fantasy, Chris Larabee had been given a glimpse of the creature that lived within. If it had not been for Buck and Mary, he could not even imagine what he might have become.  
  
"Chris," he heard Mary's soft voice in the dark. "Are you alright?"  
  
Chris swallowed and answered in a hoarse whisper. "I'm fine." He said quietly. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"No," she shook her head, able to see through the darkness. "I had a strange dream."  
  
He could understand that. "Me too," he answered coming back to bed. "Anything you want to tell me about?" He asked, even though he knew he would not be able to talk about what he had dreamed, not to anyone.  
  
"Just about you and Steven, that day you first came into Four Corners," Mary replied, a bittersweet smile crossing her face at how she had found Steven, only to lose him again and how Chris had been her salvation, in any reality. "What about you?" She inquired. "Why are you up?"  
  
"Had a dream." He said abruptly as he slipped into the covers with her.  
  
"Want to talk about it?" Mary looked at him, knowing that his nightmares were never pleasant.  
  
"Nope," Chris shook his head as he nestled next to her. "Nothing to talk about. I don't remember what it was about anyway."

* * *

  
Cold.  
  
Vin Tanner woke up thinking he felt cold. He opened his eyes and felt a shiver run down his spine because for a moment while he was lost in the dreamscape, he dreamed that he was dead. He remembered vague images of Eli Joe, of walking away from Jess Kincaid but the rest of it was obscure and then was only one moment of clarity, which sliced away all other recollections. The sound of a gunshot and the overwhelming iciness he felt in his bones he knew was not a result of the winter outside.  
  
The only warmth he could feel was Alex's arm draped over his chest. He tried to move her arm away gently as he sat up but she was already starting to awake and Vin felt slightly dismayed that he had awakened her. For a moment, he felt like he was still asleep as his eyes moved across the room and he realized that he was in Alex's room in her house, exactly where he was suppose to be. Not somewhere out there, chasing ghosts with the grand notions of what might be, instead of what was ahead.  
  
"You okay cowboy?" He heard Alex asked once awareness had seeped into her waking mind.  
  
"Yeah," Vin answered, rubbing his arm with his palm, trying to generate heat with the friction. Damn, why did he feel so cold? "Cold just woke me up, that's all." He explained, hoping it did not sound as weak an excuse as it felt.  
  
"Lie back down," she urged, tugging his arm gently back into the warmth of their bed. "I'll warm you up."  
  
Vin found himself smiling at the suggestive tone of her voice and slipped back into her arms. "What you got in mind Doc?" He whispered as he pressed his body against hers.  
  
"Whatever you like," she answered holding him close and grateful that he was in her life.  
  
"That sounds good to me." He had to admit.  
  
"You know something Vin," she said suddenly. "I think my father would have liked you."  
  
"I don't know why," Vin responded. "I ain't nothing but a drifter."  
  
Alex felt a wave of emotion overcome her then as she whispered quietly, "So was daddy."

* * *

  
Julia woke up to the sound of someone opening her bedroom door.  
  
It was not as if it was bad enough that waking up had told Julia that the events she had just experienced were nothing more than a rather extended vision in the dreamscape but now there appeared to be a prowler roaming around her house. Staggering out of bed, she slipped on a robe since it would be unwise to greet the man in her present state of undress and grabbed a bronzed ornament that sat on her bedside.  
  
Edging stealthily to the door, she heard the footsteps coming to her bedroom and raised the ornament to the proper position to attack when her intruder. She saw his shadow cross the doorway and raised her arm to bring down the object when the figure passing through the doorway, suddenly announced himself.  
  
"Julia."  
  
"Ezra!" Julia exclaimed. "What are you doing here this time of night?"  
  
"What are you doing behind the door with that?" He asked once she had emerged from her hiding place and they stared at each other.  
  
"I almost took your head off!" She said letting out a sigh of relief that he had made some sound before she had brained him.  
  
"You did give me a key." Ezra retorted with exasperation, holding it up for her to see.  
  
"You don't normally come sneaking in here like this." She countered. "I thought you were a thief."  
  
"Well I had this strange urge to see you." Ezra said sarcastically. After waking up from the dream he had just experienced, the gambler felt the insatiable need to see the love of his life and ensure that she was still in the life he remembered, not some parody of it.  
  
Julia put down the ornament and slipped into his embrace. "I'm glad you came. I had this really weird dream." She commented and debated a moment upon whether or not she should tell him about its content. "I dreamt that we were married."  
  
"Is that a hint?" He looked at her with a smug smirk across his handsome features.  
  
Julia rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."  
  
"You are correct," Ezra agreed with a grin. "What on earth would I want with a wanton like you? I am a con man after all, I could do better."  
  
"In your dreams." She retorted as she parted her lips to kiss him. "In your dreams."

* * *

  
The first thing that Buck Wilmington did when he woke up was to check under the covers and make sure he was not gelded.  
  
Then he looked around and discovered that unlike his vivid dreams had made out; he was not defending honour and some rather vital body parts in the hallway of his rooming house but in the bedroom of Judith Winton. The lady was oblivious to his midnight ruminations, which was just as well because he had no wish to explain to her what he had been dreaming of tonight. Unlike most of his dreams, which faded upon waking, this one remained firmly in his mind. Who would have thought that animal magnetism could be such a pain. At least everything was back to normal.  
  
And Inez was _not_ pregnant.

* * *

  
Inez woke up in the middle of the night and felt nausea, irritable and unable to keep from throwing up. She endured these things quite happily because for a brief moment, she understood what it was she had almost lost and knew she would not make the mistake of wishing it gone ever again. It would be hard, the next few months, she had no illusions about that, but she had friends who would help her and a man who would probably drive her insane when she told him and after what she had experienced in her dream, she had to tell him. When her stomach finally settled enough for her to resume her slumber, Inez slipped into the sheets with one satisfying thought regarding her peculiar dream.  
  
Thank God, she was _still_ pregnant.

* * *

  
J.D. did not go back to sleep again.  
  
He woke up from his nightmare so abruptly that sleep was driven out of his mind when he fell out of his bed. When he realized where he was, the young man was almost driven to tears of happiness, knowing that what he had seen while he was dreaming was just that, a dream, inspired by the discussion he, Josiah and Ezra had shared earlier on that evening. The relief escaped him like the hot gases of a volcano, almost overwhelming in their potency because what he had seen was too terrible to imagine.  
  
The young man spent the rest of his night, scouring through his collection of dime store novels, throwing out the ones having to do with gunslingers, pistoleers or anything that could ever inspire him to desire becoming the best gunfighter in the West. That dream was behind him now, not after he had seen of what necessary to accomplish it. J.D. had been forced to look through a dark mirror and the reflection that stared back at him was one he could not stomach under any circumstances.  
  
Knowing that he could be the best was enough. Being it was another thing entirely.

* * *

  
Nathan sobbed quietly inside the darkness of his room, allowing himself to become lost in the sorrow of losing Rebecca again. He had dreamt about her for years after her death, trying to imagine what he could have done to change things, it was possible to change it at all. After tonight, he knew that Fate and God had decided hand in hand that it was Rebecca's time and no matter how Nathan might wish otherwise, he had to accept it.  
  
He always wanted to know if he had been aware of Serfonteine's plans for Rebecca, could he have changed things and give her the chance for life. For years, that question had plagued him following his escape from Avalon. He lay awake at night replaying the day in his head, asking himself how it would have transpired if he had just known what was going to happen. After all those years of wondering, Nathan finally had his answer.  
  
It would not have changed a damn thing.  
  
Rebecca would still be dead and he would still have to go on without her. At least he was luckier than most people. He had friends, the love of a good woman and a future that would allow him to do the things that he loved. Even if she was not here, Nathan had to be content with knowing that Rebecca would have been pleased.

* * *

  
He was back.  
  
Josiah stumbled out of the room inside the church that had become his permanent address since he started his restoration work, with a great gasp of pleasure. Still clad in his longjohns, the preacher found himself smiling from ear to ear as stepped into his church and saw it to be the same one he had been pouring his blood and sweat into for the past two years. It did not look pristine or completed but appeared just as it did when he had gone to bed before the insanity of magic and reality bending spells had him in its grip.  
  
He knew what he had experienced was no dream. He knew it as surely as he knew the sun would peak over the horizon some hours for now. Josiah remembered clearly everything that had taken place and knew that Lilith's spell of unbinding had worked, that the young girl had set things right and returned everyone to their rightful places. Did that also apply to Audrey, he wondered?  
  
Audrey was from that fantasy world, would she not disappear with it once it was vanquished back into the mists? Josiah could not answer this question but he supposed going to the widow's house at this hour and pounding on her door to find out would not be the done thing either. If she did not remember what they had experienced together, Josiah did not mind either.  
  
He was home and for right now, that everything else would take care of itself tomorrow.

* * *

 

**CHRISTMAS**

  
As suspected, when Josiah finally met Audrey King at the Christmas party held at the Larabees, the woman looked at him with no idea who he was. He could not say that he was disappointed, since he had guessed this possibility might exist which was one of the reasons, why he had not approached her in the days leading to the event. With Audrey knowing very few people in town other than Mary, Chris' new wife thought it would only be right to invite the woman to the small gathering she was having on Christmas Day. Besides, Lilith and Billy seemed to be spending a great deal of time together and Josiah suspected that the invitation was also made so that the boy would have company during the festivities when adults surrounded him.  
  
While Audrey did not recognize him, Lilith was another story entirely. He had no idea how the spell worked so that reality was been twisted back into place to return them to where they were but when Josiah appeared before the young girl, her eyes widened in recognition. Lilith remained silent in careful observations as he regarded Audrey, who looked exactly as he had beheld her in the dream world where he had been a preacher and they had walked through the mist between realities.  
  
"Please to meet you Mr. Sanchez." Audrey replied graciously as Mary went off to deal with more guests once the introductions were made, confident that Josiah would be able to entertain Audrey while she was indisposed. Josiah had this strange suspicion that Mary might also be taking an opportunity to do a little match making if the grimace on Chris' face was anything to go by before Mary dragged him off. Although the gathering was small, the house was filling up with the sounds of seven and their companions and the atmosphere was thick with the feeling of family, even to an outsider like Audrey.  
  
"You're the one doing the fine work on the church, are you not?" She asked politely, oblivious to Lilith staring him down with wide eyes.  
  
"Yes I am," Josiah answered, unable to feel very formal around her, particularly after what they went through together. "Please call me Josiah."  
  
"Thank goodness," she said with a sigh. "I hate being called Mrs. King, it makes me feel terribly old." Audrey joked, breaking into that familiar smile that he had grown accustomed to from their previous encounter, even if that encounter had been discarded once things had righted themselves.  
  
"You certainly don't look it," Josiah complimented graciously before asking. "I am going to get myself some eggnog, would you like me to bring you some?" He inquired politely because he wanted a chance to speak to Lilith.  
  
"If you don't mind," Audrey remarked appreciatively. Although Mary Larabee had been most gracious with this invitation, Audrey had not as yet felt comfortable wandering around the lady's home searching for things and while she knew about the seven men who protected the town, she had not come across Josiah before this. He was not what she expected, for a lawman or a former preacher. In fact, he looked more comfortable around books and libraries than he did with guns and pulpit. In any case, Audrey found herself warming to him for reasons she could not explain.  
  
"Lilith," Josiah shifted his gaze to the girl, who appeared as if she wanted to speak to him but was held back by her mother's presence. "Why don't you come with me? I'm sure Billy is around here waiting to see you."  
  
"Can I momma?" She glanced at Audrey, seeking permission to take her leave, as any well-mannered child was required to do.  
  
"Of course darling," Audrey replied without hesitation, flashing a smile of encouragement at her daughter to accompany her consent. "I am certain Josiah won't allow me to languish on my own for too long." She met his gaze with an expression of mischief and Josiah found himself reminded of that eccentric woman with whom he had taken a turn with to the creek in Cherrybrook.  
  
"I would not dream of it Audrey," Josiah chuckled, somewhat pleased that he had not been mistaken about her easy going manner or their instant liking for one another while he had been trapped in that world of fiction. "Come along Lilith," Josiah urged. "I don't plan on leaving your mother alone for too great a time."  
  
As they left Audrey behind in the parlour and moved towards the kitchen, Josiah waited until they were sure not to be overheard before finally turned his attention to Lilith. "I take it you remember what happened?" He asked, trying not to sound reproachful but could not help keeping the stern tone from his voice, considering what havoc the child had wrought with her amateur dabbling in what was very serious magic.  
  
"Yes Mr. Sanchez," Lilith nodded slowly. "I woke up and everything was like it was before."  
  
That was more or less what had happened to Josiah when he had woken up that night and found himself thrust back into the world he knew. What had taken place in that picture perfect existence soon faded away like the final vestiges of dream in the waking world. While all of it now took on the translucent feel of unreality, Josiah knew that it had been anything but that. He had spent three days in place where everything he had ever wanted to be had come to fruition. It was ironic to realize that it had no more substance than fiction of dreams and the life where nothing had gone as he had anticipated, was the life he could not do without.  
  
"Its powerful stuff you played around with Lilith and I don't think you're ready to do it again, not for a long while." He continued staring at her with hard eyes.  
  
"I was only trying to help Billy," she said defensively, her lips curling into a little girl pout. "He wanted to get Miss Pemberton something nice."  
  
Lilith really had not intended on harming anyone when she performed the spell. As it was, Billy was under the impression that it did not work and decided that he would prefer to present Miss Pemberton with a nice box of chocolates that Mrs. Potter helped him pick at her store. In the end, Billy had thought the chocolates were a better gift anyway. Boys could be so fickle, Lilith had decided after that.  
  
"I know you did what you thought would help Billy," Josiah quickly spoke up, deciding not to be overly hard on her since nothing that had transpired was done out of malice. "But that book ain't for you to use until you're ready and I think you got a long way to go before you are. Do you understand what I'm saying?"  
  
"You don't want me to use it any more, do you?" She asked the question with a soft and decidedly contrite voice, even though she knew his answer already.  
  
"Not for a while yet." Josiah nodded, giving the girl a smile so she would not think that he was angry with her. In truth, she had opened his eyes somewhat with her spell. For the first time in too long, Josiah was no longer preoccupied with how his life had not gone according to plan, neither was he distressed at the lack of good he had accomplished when he walked away from the faith. Just seeing Four Corners the way it had been if not for the arrival of the seven had driven home to Josiah how much importance they held in the life in this community. The memory of that town, dying slowly with each day that passed because the life was draining out of it thanks to the stranglehold of lawlessness, had left a lasting impression on Josiah.  
  
"I wasn't going to." Lilith confessed readily. She was only a child but even she knew that something very bad had occurred when she had cast her spell. The least of which was the loss of her mother. Lilith had enough sense to know that she never wanted a recurrence of those terrible days, knowing her mother was dead because of something she had done. "I don't want to do anything that can make Billy disappear or make momma die again." The culmination of regret and fear in her eyes revealed to Josiah without doubt, precisely how determined she was on this point.  
  
Josiah was glad. He could do without having to worry about waking up one morning and finding that his entire world had changed due to further castings made by this little blond waif. Anything he was about to say was interrupted by a robust cry from Billy Travis as he came bounding down the stairs from the upper floor of the house.  
  
"Lily!" The young boy called out as he approached them both dressed in his best clothes or what was normally referred to church clothes by anyone who dressed for the occasion.  
  
"Go on," Josiah smiled as Lilith shifted her eyes towards Billy with the desire to join him but held back by good manners which dictated that she finish her conversation with Josiah. "Don't get into any trouble please?" He teased as he gave her a conspiratory wink.  
  
"Sure Mr. Sanchez," she beamed and Josiah suddenly had this sixth sense that he was going to be seeing a lot of more of this girl in the future, not simply because Josiah intended to cultivate a friendship with her mother.  
  
"Oh," Lilith paused as she drew away from Josiah in her journey to meet Billy halfway down the hall. "I think momma likes you."  
  
Predictably, she ran off before she could elaborate on that.  
  
Josiah bristled slightly in annoyance, thinking it was just like a female to make that announcement and then run out of you. He wondered if the entire sex were given lessons for this particular trait. Still, he had decided that he liked Lilith even if she did have some very strange ideas. Unconsciously, Josiah made a secret vow to keep an eye on Lilith because she appeared to need it and the less Audrey did not know about Lilith's true potential as Morag Bellingham had announced, the better.  
  
Audrey believed in nurturing her child and Josiah did not want to shatter that idealism by telling her about what he and Audrey had discovered during their journey through the mists. Apart of him would always see her as that woman he accompanied to the creek in Cherrybrook even though that meeting now never took place. Still, she was the same person who was waiting for him to bring her eggnog and Josiah decided he looked forward to getting to know Audrey King all over again.

* * *

  
As the time for Christmas dinner approached, Chris Larabee could not imagine a time when so many people had surrounded him during this festive season. Last Christmas, he and the rest of the seven had spent it in the saloon, engaging in a friendly competition to see who could pass out first from overindulgence in Red Eye whisky. If he recalled correctly, J.D. had won that particular contest. It still felt strange to him to be surrounded by so many people, who were sober no less and knowing the warm environment in which they were reveling was his home and the woman playing host to it all was his wife. Chris had not spoken to anyone about his dreams and he knew secretly, he would never reveal its content to Mary, even if they both lived to be a hundred.  
  
He knew it was only a dream and that was the only consolation he was able to find in the entire experience. Chris had spent most of his life suppressing the demons that made him what he was but not even he had suspected what those dark feelings inside of him were capable of turning him into when properly inspired.  
  
There was no doubt in his mind that had he been present the night Sarah and Adam had died and been unable to save them, Fowler and Ella would be similarly disadvantaged. He kept tight rein on the rage inside of him because he knew that when he cross the line that unleashed it, there was no going back.  
  
During those black days after their demise, Chris had been so close to slipping over the precipice into the dark abyss of his soul and knew that once he began that fall; it would be end of him. Perhaps not in body, although he suspected it would come sooner or later he would have ended his life prematurely but certainly in the loss of his soul. Only one thing had prevented him from going over the edge even though it would cost him dearly and things would never be the same for either again.  
  
He saw Buck talking to Ezra, Julia and J.D., keeping a safe distance from Inez who was in the company of Nathan and Rain who had arrived yesterday for the holidays. Nathan seemed very pleased to have the young woman in town and Chris could not blame him for that. The holidays always seemed to make separations from loved ones all the more acute. During his first Christmas alone after the fire, Chris had spent the entire time so drunk that it was three days after the event when he finally sobered up. Until his arrival in Four Corners, that was the only way Chris could handle occasions like that.  
  
_You're putting it off, Larabee._  
  
Chris frowned as he heard that inner voice make itself heard inside his house. Ever since that nightmare had impressed itself upon his mind with such terrifying clarity, Chris had made the decision to do something he should have done a long time ago and could no longer put off, not after what he had seen in his dream. He broke away from Vin and Alex and made his way through the room before reaching Buck.  
  
As usual Buck was his charming self, although for some strange reason, Chris noticed that his old friend was maintaining eye contact with Julia like his life depended on it. To say Buck had a roving eye was an understatement, the man had one yard stick for every woman he met and it was measured by three words S-E-X.  
  
It took a long time for Buck to be able to see past the cut of a woman's figure to actually know the personality beneath; Inez and Mary fell into that category. Alex and Julia had yet to reach that level of familiarity for Buck and this was the first time Chris had ever seen him regard Julia without taking note of how attractive the woman was.  
  
"I'm telling you, I'm gonna get to the bottom of this." Buck was telling Ezra. No doubt, he was outlining the next phase in his campaign to induce Inez to speak to him again, Chris decided. "She's gonna talk to me if it's the last thing I do."  
  
"Mr. Wilmington, the odds favour that it will be the last thing you do." Ezra retorted, proving once again that no situation was sacred from the lure of gambling.  
  
"You didn't?" Julia rolled her eyes although she was unsurprised that he could stoop so low. _God, she loved him._  
  
"I better be getting some of that money," Buck teased knowing that his chances of prising cash from Ezra was as likely as his joining a monastery.  
  
"Why certainly," Ezra said smugly. "Posthumously of course."  
  
"You're all heart." Chris added. "At least we can use the cash for the funeral." He threw Buck a faint smile.  
  
"Now you're insulting me," Buck said with mock hurt. "I'll have you know that filly will be mine before the night is done."  
  
"And I'm sure it will be very nice." Julia could resist saying. Ezra and Chris had to bite down to keep themselves from sniggering as Buck's glared at her with narrowed eyes.  
  
"That was cold." He muttered, hating to be reminded just how much he hated that word.  
  
"But you were kind of asking for it." Chris added. "Come on big fella," he took Buck's arm. "I need a word with you."  
  
Buck looked after Chris puzzled as they drew away from the main floor of the party and proceeded down the hallway before Chris stepped onto the porch outside. Although the air was heavy with winter chill, it was nonetheless a glorious night with all the stars in attendance across the sky. There was an almost Biblical beauty about it.  
  
"What's up Chris?" Buck asked once they were alone.  
  
Chris said nothing for a moment, busying himself by lighting a cigarette as if he was stalling for him. Buck knew Chris long enough to know that usually meant he was gearing himself to reveal something important and for the life of him, Buck could not imagine what that might be. Buck also knew that it was never wise to push Chris further than he was willing to go in such instances for the gunslinger would instinctively withdraw into himself and Buck would never find out what was on his mind.  
  
"I've been thinking about Sarah and Adam the last few days." Chris finally broke the silence.  
  
"It’s Christmas," Buck said shrugging his broad shoulders. "That's only natural. You've moved on with the rest of your life but these are the days when those old memories come back."  
  
Chris met Buck's gaze and wondered how such wisdom could exist in mind so juvenile and completely lacking in responsibility at times. "I know," Chris agreed. "But that wasn't what I was thinking about." Taking a deep breath, he forced the words out even though they were hard to articulate in his throat. "I was thinking about the fire and afterwards."  
  
Buck swallowed hard because he liked thinking about that as much as Chris did. Part of the reason he had forced himself to remain at Chris' side, refusing to let the man give up on himself in the wake of his loss was because Buck felt partly responsible for what had happened. If he had only let Chris come home that night instead of insisting that they stay the night, perhaps Sarah and Adam would still be alive.  
  
"What about it?" He asked, wondering where Chris was going with this.  
  
"I never got a chance to thank you Buck for staying with me. I can't have been too easy to be around after what happened and I want you to know I appreciate what you did." Chris met his gaze  
  
Buck did not know what to say. It was one of the few times such a thing had ever happened to him. "Aw hell Chris," Buck managed to reply after a few seconds. "I was guilty as all hell. If I hadn't made you stay in Mexico. ."  
  
"It might wound up worse than it already was." Chris cut him off before he could finish that sentence. "For a long time, I kept thinking that if I had gotten home maybe, it would have wound up different. Lately, I wonder if that's true. It would have been a hard ride to get back that night as it was and Fowler and his men were waiting for us to leave before he went after Sarah. They had their orders not to hurt me so they'd moved in fast."  
  
Frankly, Buck was amazed to find Chris talking about this so freely. Normally Chris tended to seize up whenever the subject was brought up. He knew that the action was a reflex Chris had developed not to deal with his pain. However, things had changed lately for his friend, with a new wife and a son to care for. Buck almost started to feel the pang of guilt he had been carrying around himself diminish slightly.  
  
"Maybe," Buck swallowed. "I guess we'll never know really."  
  
"No, we won't." Chris agreed and continued. "I just want to say thank you Buck. I could have gone either way after I lost my family. You kept me sane and you kept me from putting a bullet in my head. If it weren't for you, none of this," he glanced at the house and referred to everything inside of it. "None of this would have been possible for me. You've been a good friend Buck, through everything."  
  
"Why thank you Chris." Buck replied quietly, uncertain how to take this show of gratitude. He knew it existed even though it was never spoken about openly but hearing it from the man's lips touched Buck deeper than anything had in a long time. It was the first time, since the fire, their friendship even remotely felt like it used to be.  
  
Chris was about to say something else when suddenly the door opened and Inez made her appearance. "Am I interrupting?" She asked, having left the others in order to talk to Buck.  
  
"We're done." Chris said first, even though his gaze was still locked with Buck's.  
  
Inez suddenly had the impression that she had walked in on something exceedingly important and wished she had waited until after the party to speak to Buck. She had been watching him all night, trying to sum the courage to speak to him the baby before finally coming to the decision that she could not delay any longer.  
  
"Yeah," Buck nodded in agreement. "I guess we are." He remarked before turning to Inez. "See Chris, I told you she couldn't stay away from me for too long." He grinned, reverting back to type for her benefit.  
  
Chris met Inez's gaze and the same thought crossed their mind at the same time.  
  
"He's all yours," Chris said shaking his head. "Such as it is."  
  
"Which isn't much." Inez frowned.  
  
"Dinners gonna be ready soon," Chris reminded as he started to leave. "I'll have just enough time to see Ezra about some money..." he grinned before disappearing through the door and leaving them alone.  
  
"Well this is a surprise." Buck said staring at her with folded arms, with a hint of smug satisfaction that she had finally broken the deadlock between them. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" He took a step forward and noticed her doing the same. This was turning out to be an evening of miracles all right.  
  
"We need to talk." She said seriously. After that curious dream where her entire life in Four Corners had vanished, Inez had come to some firm decisions about her future. Decisions, which Buck had a right to know before she went any further.  
  
"About what?" Buck asked, unwilling to make this any easier on her than he had to. After all, it was she who had brushed him off like something to be scrapped off her boot, not he. "Seems to me like you made yourself pretty clear these past two months."  
  
"Buck, its not that simple." Inez bristled, starting to get irritated by his manner. Did he have any idea what she had been through these past few weeks? "I am sorry that I hurt you but it's become a little more than just your feelings now."  
  
"What do you mean?" Buck demanded. "Since when was it ever about my feelings? Inez, I know what I am and I ain't ashamed to admit that I love more women than I should but you know perfectly well that it has never been that way when it came to you. I loved you from the first moment I saw you and I was willing to play it your way cause I knew I wasn't exactly what you were looking for in a husband but what you did after that night was not right and you know it. I gave you my heart woman and you trampled all over it. I ain't prepared to do it again."  
  
"Well I don't want it!" Inez hissed, feeling hormones and ire bubbling into a mix that sent her temper spiraling out of control. "I am here to tell you because you have a right to know!"  
  
"Know what?" He demanded, riding this wave of anger with her.  
  
"I AM PREGNANT YOU IMBECILE!"  
  
Buck stared at her blankly. "With a baby?"  
  
"No with ten pound calf!" Inez snarled. "Of course with a baby!" She shouted in erupting fury, unable to believe the man could be so thick sometimes. With that statement behind her, Inez descended into a litany of rather colour Mexican expletives all aimed at him. "Why do I even bother?" She fumed as she spun on her heels and went through the door again. "It's like talking to a child!"  
  
"But…but. ." Buck stammered as he hurried after her. God, his nightmare was coming true. All he needed was for Julia to start undressing and he would be set. Inez was already half way down the hall when Buck entered the house again, refusing to let her walk away this time "Inez! Wait up! We gotta talk about this!"  
  
"We don't have to talk about anything Senor Wilmington!" Inez roared, capturing the attention of just about everybody in the house as she passed by the dining room where everyone was assembling for Christmas dinner, with her outburst. "I have told you, that is enough! You don't need to know anything else!"  
  
"Enough!" Buck exclaimed unable to comprehend how stubborn this woman could be. She had literally dropped dynamite in his lap and expected him to go away quietly and deal with it. "You tell me you're pregnant and as far as you're concerned is the end of it?"  
  
"Buck!" Inez gushed in mortification for revealing to everyone such an intimate matter. The entire room fell silent from that revelation and all eyes turned to them, transfixed by the unfolding drama. Even Chris was wearing an expression of astonishment on his face as he regarded them both.  
  
"We're just having a little discussion," Buck cleared his throat and faced his friends, trying to down play things as being not as bad as they looked. "Nothing to worry about." He swallowed visibly proving to them all that it was anything but that.  
  
"Obviously," a smug voice entered the fray and Buck knew it just had to be Ezra. Buck glared at the gambler and turned back to Inez. "Darling if there's a child coming, then we ought to do the right thing."  
  
Their conversation had the undivided attention of every person in the room as they watched this sudden development in the ongoing opera that was becoming Buck Wilmington and Inez Rosillios' relationship.  
  
"Like what?" She stared at him in puzzlement; not at all liking what he was proposing and that would seem to be the appropriate word to describe it.  
  
"Like getting married." He gushed exasperated, as if there could be any question about it at all.  
  
Her eyes widened at the notion before she said very firmly. "Nunca!"  
  
"Nunca?" Buck groaned, perfectly aware of what that mean. "What the hell do you mean, nunca!"  
  
"I can translate for you if you like." Nathan offered with a smile before Rain elbowed him in the stomach and shot him a glare that forced the healer back into silent observation.  
  
"NEVER!" Inez replied. "Even if you're last man on this Earth!" She shouted and then disappeared out of sight with Buck following her closely, their voices trailing through the house, indicating this issue was going to be with everyone for quite some time.  
  
"Well," Mary said following their departure, knowing anything she said at this point would be anti-climatic. "Who wants more punch?"  
  
Suffice to say, the next year was going to be interesting.  
  
The End  
  



End file.
